


Keith Angst One-shots

by lucradiss



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Alpha Lance (Voltron), Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Heavy Angst, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Keith (voltron) is sad, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Keith/Lance (Voltron)-centric, Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Omega Verse, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Other, Pining Keith (Voltron), References to Depression, Sad baby boi, Self-Indulgent, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), kangst, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 150,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucradiss/pseuds/lucradiss
Summary: Welcome to your one-stop, one-shot shop of Keith Angst galore! We have anything you could ever want- Galra Keith, Vampire AUs, Omegaverse AUs, or even the plain-old coffeeshop AUs with a twist! Requests are always taken to heart down here, and we will most likely write whatever you want. So enjoy your stay! You'll be here a while.





	1. Short Strides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In walked Keith Kogane- he was strong, he was aggressive, he was an omega, and he was going to make my entire world crumble to the ground.   
> I just didn't know it yet.

In stalked the man everyone knew about.  
In he stalked- short, but powerful. Calm, but aggressive. Patient, yet reckless. Who was independent as all hell and knew how to blend in with a crowd. He was strong. He was fearless. He was possibly suicidal. He would be the absolute unit.  
Now, notice I said would be. The only problem is that no-one takes him seriously. Now, let me explain: he sounds like an alpha, right? If you thought that, you'd be dead wrong.  
In stalked the omega everyone had heard about but never believed in. In stalked the teenage omega who was brushed off just for this fact. In stalked the insubordinate, chaotic, unpredictable, teenage omega who could change the world, but had been rejected by it so many times that he came to see it as a minor nuisance.  
In stalked Keith Kogane. He was strong, he was aggressive, and he was going to make my entire world crumble to the ground.  
But I didn't know that yet.

He walked through the halls of my high school and I watched him through my locker mirror. I almost wanted to catch his eye, but of course, he didn't. Keith didn't care about a damn thing. I've been friends with the guy for a couple years now, and I've never met anyone more apathetic than he is. He should get an award.  
Keith is a year younger than me. He's a freshman while I'm a sophomore, so he just turned fifteen and I'm sixteen. Despite this and his presentation, he carries himself, albeit small, with a whole lot of maturity. I envied that. I almost scoffed to myself thinking this- me, a hot, popular, overall awesome alpha, envious of a deadbeat omega. What does that say about me?

I internally groaned and shut my locker, turning and walking over to him. He saw me and slowed his gait, falling into step with me. "Morning, Keith." He turned to me and nodded his head, looking absolutely dead. On that day, he didn't really seem to care much about his appearance (but then again, did he really ever?). He wore a white t-shirt and some jeans, his beat-up old leather jacket over everything and kind of clashing. He still wore those fingerless gloves, too, and I wondered if he'd ever take them off.  
The answer was no.  
I kind of chuckled and turned my backpack around, unzipping it and grabbing a thermos of coffee, something I regularly gave to him. He took it wordlessly- we'd thrown away any nicety that anyone else may have taken.  
Keith and I had an odd relationship. We hated each other, but we still remained friends. It was really weird when we would fight and then Pidge would hold one of her usual movie weekends. We'd just not speak to each other, and the anger would resolve itself. I sometimes wondered if Pidge held those weekends to forcefully diffuse fights within our friend group, but I always discarded that thought. Why would someone go to those lengths to end fights? It's too much.

Keith chugged most of the coffee and handed it back to me. I took it and put it back in my bag for later. It was a routine that we had down to a tee. I'd greet him, then we'd walk together to his first class. Then we wouldn't speak til lunch, then we wouldn't speak again until I bid him farewell at the end of the day. Come to think of it, Keith didn't talk much at all. He was actually very anti-social, but that's to be expected of someone who hates people.  
We walked down the hall and I gave him a look. He didn't seem to see me watching him, so I kept with it.

As I walked, for what felt like the first time in a while, I studied the other boy. Short, black hair, stoic expression. Everything you wouldn't expect in an omega. Everything you'd hate in an omega. It was hard to believe that Keith was supposed to be the submissive one in relationships, seeing as he constantly got into fights and constantly bickered with people bigger and arguably stronger than him.  
"Hey, Keith," I said. He cocked his head up at me. He seemed somewhat confused- this wasn't ever in the schedule. I never actually initiated conversation with him. This was new territory. "What's your favorite color?" He raised his eyebrow, then looked forward once more, shrugging.

"Don't have one." He grumbled. I hummed in acknowledgment and I noticed a fleeting glance he sent my way when we parted ways to our respective classes, which were down the forking hallways. I sat at my desk and took out my biology notebook, doodling skater boys in the back. The teacher entered with a smile and I looked up briefly, looking back down again when he started talking.

\---

I yawned as I entered the cafeteria. It was more of a cafetorium, actually, as there was a small, shitty stage in the corner. It was always too cold in there; that was of no consequence to me, though, as I usually sat outside with Keith and Pidge and Hunk. I grabbed my lunch from the line and walked out to our usual table. Keith was just getting there too, and Hunk and Pidge spoke casually. Hunk, a beta, looked up at my and Keith's arrival. He smiled and opened his lunch bag, tossing me a fruit roll-up.  
"Score!" I said, doing a mini fist-pump in the air. Keith rolled his eyes and put in his earbuds, hoping to be left alone. That wasn't for long though as Pidge, another alpha poked him with her pencil.  
"Com'on, lone wolf. Stop being so standoffish."

"He's always standoffish," I said, putting the fruit roll-up in my pocket and getting my PB and Nutella sandwich from my paper bag. She huffed and sat back down in her seat. 

 

"Yeah, but he doesn't have to be."

"I'm right here, guys," Keith said, rolling his eyes again and putting his phone in his pocket. He sat forward on the table and listened to my and Hunk's resumed conversation about the teachers here. Keith was the only omega in our group of friends- it wouldn't surprise me if he were one of the only omegas in the school. There weren't many in that part of town, and you were lucky if you found one that knew how to do anything other than fuck. I guess I was lucky, though, since I befriended Keith. It sickens me to imagine him fucking someone, though. Gross.

"Mr. Strickler is the goddamn OG." Hunk said.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean he's a good teacher." I retorted.

"I never said that! The guy is a dinosaur- and not one of the smart ones."

I snorted at Hunk's response and took a bite of my sandwich. I looked to Keith, who didn't seem to have anything. I wondered for a moment how many times this had happened- as I thought back, it seemed like Keith never had what to eat for lunch.  
"You hungry?" I asked.

"No." His eyes betrayed his words, though, and he eyed my sandwich hungrily. I shrugged.

"Okay, man."

As I turned back to Hunk, I saw him pick up his bag and walk away out of the corner of my eye. Pidge seemed to see it too, as she turned to me and gave me a small glare.  
"What?" I asked her. She scoffed.

"You could've offered him some of your food." She said, crossing her arms.

"He said he wasn't hungry! I asked." I said.

"Okay, but that doesn't mean he's not hungry."

"That's exactly what it means!"

She groaned in exasperation and stood too, checking the time on her watch. "It's almost time to leave. Hunk- bring UNO tomorrow, would ya?"

"Sure thing."

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked away, others unconsciously clearing a path for her. She was the kind of alpha that had a huge presence, even with her body being so small. She was smart as a whip and knew the world well, and that was on top of her uncanny ability to control a room. She was a different type of alpha, and a lot of people would kill for that.  
Hunk was normal.

I sighed and put my head on the table. Hunk put his hand on my back and I looked up at him. "It'll be fine." He said. I put my chin in my arms and smiled slightly up at him.  
"I know that," I said. "The thing is that I don't know how to deal with Keith. He's so aloof all the time and it always seems like he's being forced to be around us."

"That's just Keith."

"It shouldn't have to be, though!"

"It just is."

I groaned again and sat up, rubbing my face. "He's so confusing."

"That's just Keith."  
"I know."

Hunk gave me another smile and I returned it. "Maybe one day he'll come out of his shell a bit more," Hunk said. "Right now, though, we should give him some time."  
"Yeah, maybe you're right."  
"I'm always right."

I chuckled and Hunk slapped my back. Then the bell rang and I stood, walking with Hunk to our next shared class.  
Keith and I didn't share any classes. He was a freshman, after all, and I, a sophomore. Superior in every way. Older, hotter, more mature; everything some hot chick would ever want. And he was... emo.

\---

I sighed and stretched as I walked out of the club room. We'd stayed a little later than usual for the ecosystem club, and the work was kind of tiring, but it was worth it. We were planning our next trip to the Everglades, down in Florida.  
Hunk walked right next to me, blabbing on about his girlfriend, another beta by the name of Shay. She was pretty cute if I had to say so myself, but she was nerdy. Hunk's type, by far. 

We jogged down the steps and onto the sidewalk. I took out my keys and went over to my old, beaten up Delta 88. I waved Hunk goodbye as he walked down the street (I'd offered him a ride, but he refused) and got into my car. I backed out of the parking lot, blinking as the setting sun hit my eyes, and drove out of the school.  
That is until I saw Keith.  
I pulled over next to him and rolled down the window. He barely gave me a glance before taking another drag of his cig and looking down at his phone.  
"What?" He barked.

"I could be saying the same thing to you. What are you doing here? Freshmen aren't allowed in the eco-club." I asked. I eyed his cigarette with a glare. I hated when he smoked.

"I'm not in your dumbass club. I'm waiting for my dad."

"And how long have you been waiting?"

"I dunno," He checked the time. "Like three hours." I raised my eyebrows at him, but he didn't meet my eyes. I don't think he realized how long he'd been out there. He must've liked the peace and quiet.

"Three hours? So you've been standing here, smoking cigarettes, all afternoon?"

"I guess." He said. He looked back to his phone- a cracked old iPhone 5s that probably barely worked. I rolled my eyes.

"Get in," I said.

"What?" He asked back. I groaned annoyedly and rolled my eyes. He raised his eyebrows at me and put his phone in his pocket.

"Get in. I'm taking you home." I said to him. He looked at me incredulously.

"Hell no."

"Get in."

"No!" He snarled. "You can't tell me what to fucking do."

"Get in," I growled back at him. He flinched slightly and I suddenly felt bad. "Now."

Maybe it was because I was an alpha and his instincts took over, or maybe he was genuinely scared of me, but his resolve shook and he took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing the butt to the ground, stomping it out. Wordlessly, he gave me a glare and walked over to the passenger side of the car, getting in and crossing his arms.  
"You know the fucking address."

"That I do."

I started the car again and drove him to his house. By the time we got there, the sun was mostly set, but Keith's house lights were off. I heard him swallow hard, but his face didn't show any sign of discomfort.  
"Thanks." He said stiffly. I raised an eyebrow as he stepped out of my car.  
"Anytime," I said back. I watched him get to the door, and he took a moment before entering. He seemed nervous, for some reason. Maybe, I thought, I should've left him standing on the pavement.  
I put the car in drive and got back onto the main road, memorizing the way from Keith's house to mine.

I parked in my driveway but didn't get out. I couldn't get the sound of Keith's voice out of my head. I tended to over-analyze stuff often, so it wasn't a surprise that I was picking around the one-word sentence, trying to find meaning where there might not have been any. Of course, though, I recognized the stiffness in his voice to be anticipation. Or maybe it was dread. I think it was dread. I sighed and got out of my car, shivering in the cooler air, then I walked into the house and into the kitchen, where my mom was just putting the food onto the plates.  
I kissed her on the cheek. "Hola, Mamá," I said. She smiled up at me.  
"Hola, Lance. Why are you back so late?"

"My friend needed a ride home."

"How nice of you."

"Si."

\---

I walked into school that next day and went to my locker. I fixed up some foundation in my mirror, covering up the fact that I was trying to look for Keith. I always did. But today was different. Today, I was actually worried for the younger boy. I couldn't figure out why, but I also couldn't shake Keith's odd behavior the night before.  
When the bell rang, it became apparent that Keith wasn't coming to school. This was odd since he usually came every day. Despite his delinquent attitude, he was actually an exceptional student.  
The only reason he wouldn't come to school would be that he was on his heat. The only problem with that logic is that I know around the time his heat begins and ends. It was like clockwork. But it wasn't that time of the month yet. So where could he be? Dipping? No, as I said, he was a good student. Sick? Keith barely ever got sick, and if he did he would come anyway. Hurt? Would come to school anyway. Damn, thinking about that, Keith's pretty resilient. But I digress; where could he have been?  
I sighed and closed my locker, walking to my class and taking out my notebook, doodling in the back of it once more. This time, though, I was doodling Keith. That omega seemed to be my only thought that day because by the time school ended, I'd called him four times and texted him too many times to count. No response, of course. It's not like Keith would actually respond to texts. Calling him usually worked, though. This worried me. And worrying about Keith worried me. I was very worried.

I sat in my car after school and called him once more. This time, someone picked up. "Hey, Keith, are you oka-"

"Who's this?" A gruff voice could be heard over the phone and I flinched. I could only assume that he was Keith's dad, but I couldn't be sure. From just the two words that he uttered, I figured out that the man was a raging alpha, so how could Keith be an omega? Was it a recessive gene, or something? I frowned. "This is Lance. I'm a friend of Keith's."

The man barked a laugh. "Friend? That's really funny, kid. Is this a prank? No, right? You must have made a mistake, or you might be mistaking Keith for Lotor. Yeah, that would make more sense. I'll go get him for ya."

I tried to say no, but the phone was passed on too quickly for me to say anything. "Hello?" A voice, velvety smooth and cold like ice came over the phone. It sounded like the guy was preoccupied, but it seemed like he could multitask. I raised an eyebrow. "Could you pass Keith's phone onto him, please? I'm trying to get in touch with him."

"Mhmm." The man said. "If that's all, then I'm going to hang up."

"What? No, give me to Keith."

"Mm, yeah, bye babe." The line went dead and I pulled the phone from my ear, looking at the now-dark screen, shocked. What the fuck even was that? What kind of family did Keith even have? What kind of father? I growled and sighed exasperatedly backing out of my parking space and driving out of the school. I briefly debated whether or not to stop by Keith's house, but uncertainly decided against it.

\---

Keith came back to school a couple days later, looking pretty dead (that wasn't really unusual but this time it was worse) and I peered at him out of the corner of my locker mirror. He dragged his feet and he had (deeper than normal) bags under his eyes. I brushed it off as him staying up too later playing video games and was just about to close my locker when I saw his hand.  
He was gripping the strap of his messenger backpack tightly, but I could see that his hand shook. There were plasters and cuts around his bruised fingers and his hand was wrapped with a stark white bandage. I noticed that there was a patch on his cheek, but I could see little bits of a bruise peeking out from it.  
I frowned. Even if Keith trained for Kendo, there wouldn't be this much injury, especially around the face. Keith usually covered up in fingerless gloves (even though he wasn't today), so I wouldn't get to see his palm area, but his fingers were usually much less scratched up. I closed my locker and jogged over to him.  
"Damn, man, you seem pretty beat up." He hummed in acknowledgment and I sighed. I took out the coffee thermos and he looked at it nauseously, shaking his head when I offered it to him. I furrowed my brows and put it back in my backpack. There had never been one instance where he refused coffee. That was concerning. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine." He grumbled. His voice was hoarse. I nodded back, not wanting to pry, and walked with him until we had to split up for class.  
He didn't come to lunch. I sat with Pidge and Hunk, waiting for him to show up to start UNO, but he never did.  
I didn't see him at the end of the day either. That is until I was waiting alone in the hallway for him and decided to give it up. I walked outside and heard voices. I heard that same voice from when I called Keith- that velvety smooth, icy one -and another, smaller and harder to discern. I decided to walk a little closer, but quietly. 

"I don't have any of your fucking money, Lotor." Keith? Was that Keith? I risked a peek and saw Keith standing against the wall, looked down upon by a dark-skinned, white-haired beast of a man. That must've been Lotor. He was obviously an alpha. 

"Really? I could've sworn Dad saw you take some." Damn, Lotor was hot. Ridiculously so. But his words dripped with malice. That's a turn-off. Keith froze up and looked to the ground.  
"I didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's not what Dad's gonna think."

Keith ran his hand through his hand and bit his lip. "I don't have anything, Lotor."

"You have one thing."  
Keith looked up in fear. His hands clenched into fists. "No, no please, not again."

"I mean, if you're really grateful for Dad and me, you'll do it. Maybe we'll just have to throw you back out onto the street, hmm? Maybe that would teach you how to say thank you."

"No!"

"If you don't want to be outside when snow is falling, you'll do it again."

There was a pause. Keith looked down and screwed his eyes shut, a small tear escaping and dripping from his nose. "Fine."

"Wonderful," Lotor growled. He put his other hand against the wall and licked his lips. Keith looked up with wide eyes, and even then, I thought his eyes were so pretty- what? What were these thoughts? I softly slapped my face to keep them at bay but kept my eye on the scene that unfolded in front of me.  
"Here? Now?" Keith squeaked.  
"Of course, kitten. I need my payment." 

Keith sighed shakily and didn't resist when Lotor grabbed his chin and shoved him against a wall. No, he didn't protest, but he didn't exactly do anything either. I was uncomfortable watching the situation, but I couldn't take my eyes away from Keith's face- bruised, defeated, sad. Another tear rolled from his eye to his cheek to his hard jawbone, where it stayed for a good second before falling off.  
I waited for another moment, then took a deep breath. I stepped out from behind the wall, though neither of them actually saw me. What was I doing? I had a clearer view of Keith's face then, and his eyes opened slightly. Tears poured from them; in regret, in fear, in hopelessness. And I couldn't take it anymore.  
"Keith, is that you?" I faked a surprised voice. "Is this your alpha?" I said this knowing full well who Lotor was, but I don't think he knew me. They stepped away from each other and Lotor scowled. Keith looked into my eyes, sending me silent 'thank you's.  
"No," Lotor said lowly. He huffed and walked past me. I watched him leave. I turned to the omega, who stood with his head away from me, wiping tears from his face. I frowned in concern and walked over to him.  
"Keith, are you okay?" I tentatively put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched back.

He leaned against the wall and slid to the grass, pulling his knees to his chest. "I can't do this anymore." He muttered. I furrowed my brows and he ran a hand through his hair.  
"Do what?"

"Lotor, he- ugh. I just... can't."

I sat down with him and watched his turmoil. "It's okay to talk about stuff, Keith." He frowned.

"But it's not." He said. 

"Okay." I had a feeling that prying in this situation especially would make things worse; at least right then, anyway. "We don't have to talk about it. But are you okay right now?"

Keith looked away, and I knew the answer was no.  
"I don't know." He said. 

"Well," I said back. He looked me in the eye and I smiled slightly at him. "If you don't want to be outside when snow is falling, you can come stay with me." I have no idea what Lotor meant by what he said, but when that omega looked at me, I knew that I'd said the right thing.

Keith's eyes widened and he bit his lip. Tears pooled in those dark gray-indigo eyes of his, and real, true gratitude infected his smell. After a moment of shocked silence, he pulled me into a tight hug. I could smell every emotion that he had at that moment, and it smelled amazing. Like a campfire on a clear night, licking up at the stars as if it was reaching for its family. I think Keith was looking for family, too, because when I smelled him, he held me tighter.  
"Thank you," He said. "Thank you so much."

Everything went back to normal after a while. Keith and I were a little more friendly with each other, but not so much that it set off Hunk and Pidge. I noticed that he started to smoke more. He would smoke at lunch, which was new. He usually had a cig before school and one afterward, unless he was waiting for his dad- in that case, he'd have more than just one. But yeah. He smoked more. I also would drive him home more. Now and again he'd ask me for a ride, and I'd open my Delta door and let him in. I wondered why he didn't get a ride home with Lotor, who I'd discovered was a Junior, had a car, and his adoptive brother, but after rethinking that question, I decided that him getting rides with me was for the best.  
He kept coming to school with bruises. Sometimes, they would be minimal. Other times, there would be too many to count. I had a suspicion, though, that whatever had been going on had been doing so long before I saw those injuries. I think that he'd just hidden them. 

On one particular Friday, I'd been walking out of the eco club; alone, this time. Hunk got sick and had to stay home, and Pidge had dipped earlier. I sighed and grabbed my keys from my pocket. The sun had just begun to set as I walked out of the school, and I almost walked over to my car before seeing Keith leaning on it, smoking a cig anxiously. He spotted me and averted his gaze sheepishly. I jogged over with a smile.

"Hey, Keith. You need a ride?" I asked him. He met my eyes, his independence warring with his need for help, and I noticed that he seemed scared. Why? He stomped the cigarette out and reached into his pocket for another, taking it out and looking at it. He put it back and crossed his arms. He had a dark, bruised ring around his right eye and the bruise that had been on his cheek had begun to fade into a light brown-yellow hue. He sighed and nodded. I smiled again and unlocked the car, getting in with him in the passenger seat. I pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive to Keith's house. 

"Uhm..." He mumbled. I stopped at a light and looked over at him. "Can we go somewhere else?" He asked. I raised an eyebrow. "Why?" I asked. 

"I can't go back there right now."  
Although I didn't understand in the slightest, I had a vague idea of what he needed. I nodded and started driving when the light turned green.  
"I know just the place."

\---

I pulled up to an old playground where I used to play at. By the time we got there, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. The stars were beginning to shine in the sky and I could see every one of them. I got out, Keith tentatively tagging along, and I headed to the playset.  
"Where are we?" He asked. His voice was smaller than normal. He seemed nervous. I looked back at him with a grin.

"This is one of my favorite places," I said to him. I saw that he'd stayed back near the car, so I went over and grabbed his hand. He yelped in surprise and I chuckled, pulling him to the monkey bars. He climbed up on the platform and sat down, watching me from the other side. I maneuvered from bar to bar, not paying much attention to where I was going, and when I made it to the other side, I looked down to yell to Keith and his face was right in front of mine. We both turned red and I fell from the bars, hitting the ground and groaning in pain. Keith started laughing from his spot, all prior fear forgotten, and I stood, brushing myself off with a smile. He seemed happier without that looming dread hanging over his head. 

"It's not like you can do much better," I said. He raised his eyebrows, taking it as a challenge.

"Bet." He said. He stood and got on the monkey bars; I was going to say something about how that wasn't nearly as good as what I did, but then he swung himself through one of the beams and onto the top. He stood on the top and walked along them, giving me a shit-eating grin. He jumped down and landed perfectly, bowing extravagantly. I shrugged and slow-clapped him with a half-smile. I mean, it was better than what I could do. 

We played on the set for a little while, trying to out-do each other every chance we got. It was all in good fun, though, and we were having fun. I don't think that I'd ever seen Keith smile like that. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time since I'd met him, and I felt proud knowing that it was me who put that smile on his face.  
We got tired after a while and decided to just lay on one of the platforms and look at the stars. It was a mutual, unsaid thing because when I sighed and laid down, he did the same. We didn't speak, but the usually-tense air dissipated, replaced with a soothing calm that I'd never felt from him before. It was nice.

"Why didn't you want to go home?" I murmured after a while. It was out of the blue, yes, but it'd been on my mind for the whole night. He hesitated, but the calm scent in the air never once filled with the tension it once had.  
"I couldn't go back." He murmured back. 

"Why?"

"Do you want the long version or the short version?" He asked. I was surprised I even got this far, but I decided to push my luck.  
"We've got time," I said. He took a deep breath in and sighed it out. His smell seemed to get increasingly anxious, but he still seemed as stoic as ever.

"My mother and father adopted me when I was seven." He said. "Lotor, who'd just presented as an alpha, had turned nine around then and they'd just found out that my mother, who was a beta, couldn't have any more kids. She was distraught, so she talked my father into adoption. He'd always been happy with just Lotor, though- intelligent, self-aware, analytical. They were alike in ways you wouldn't imagine. But then my mother brought me home and everything seemed to be okay. My mother loved me and I'd been able to get a grip on school. It was nice.

Then she died. It was as unpredictable as she was- a car crash with a teen who was texting behind the wheel. I'd just turned eight and Lotor ten. My father, who'd been a really stand up guy until then, took up drinking. It wasn't that bad, as he thought I would present as an alpha. You can guess how he reacted when I presented as an omega, not to mention gay.  
He started hitting me. Sometimes with objects, sometimes with just his fist. Lotor never intervenes- in fact, he does stuff to me too.  
I guess it's my fault. I was the one who presented as the weak one. My mom was the one who adopted me and loved me, and now she's gone. Why would her late husband, who I believe hated me from the start, take care of me when his incentive isn't around? I'm just his omega punching bag.  
I'm afraid to go home now, Lance. I don't know if I can take another second of pain from him. And Lotor's even worse! He'll blackmail me for sex like I'm sure you heard that one time a week or two ago. I don't even consent, but I have to do it because if I don't, Lotor will tell my father that I did something and then I'll get halfway murdered. I don't want to go home anymore."

There was a silence when he finished and my mouth was ajar, just a little bit. Keith told me everything. That was... intense. I turned my head to look at him, just in time to see a single tear roll down the side of his cheek and onto the platform.  
"Keith..."

"I know that it's a bad situation," He said. "but I don't want your pity."

"I'm not giving you pity," I said. There was a silence and I heard his breathing, slowing as he looked at the stars. I turned my head away and looked at the stars with him.  
"I should probably head back." He murmured, though he made no move to stand. 

"No, you shouldn't," I said. The silence returned and I smelled something change in his scent. It was something I hadn't smelled before and unrecognizable, but I liked it all the same. He looked at me and I could feel his eyes on the side of my head. I didn't turn to look back, though. 

"Can you take me home?" He asked, lacking conviction though undeterred by my protest. I finally met his eyes and he gazed at me with some kind of hope. It wasn't hope that I'd take him home, but hope that I wouldn't. I smiled. I knew I'd won. I sat up and he watched me take out my phone.

Lance: Hola, mama, can I have a friend stay over tonight? There's something going on at home.

Mama: Of course. Is it Hunk or Pidge?

Lance: No.

Mama: Okay, then who?

Lance: Keith

Mama: That's a first. Has he eaten?

I checked the time: eight o' clock. I doubted it, as we'd been there since around seven.

Lance: I don't think so. Neither have I, come to think of it.

Mama: I'll reheat some of tonight's dinner. I can't wait to meet your friend, Lance :)

There was an innuendo embedded into that comment and I felt myself blush. She knew that Keith was an omega; I've talked to her about him before. I suppressed a giggle. My mother was such a goddamn loon. 

"Nope," I responded to him. He raised his eyebrows. "You're staying with me tonight."

He turned red and sat up. "No, no, I couldn't do that to your family. I don't want to be a burden-"

"Come on!" I stood offering my hand to him. He looked at it with confusion. "My mom is dying to meet you."

He looked up at me, unsure, and then smiled warily, taking my hand and letting me help him up. 

\---

I opened the door to my house, Keith following along behind me. My mom popped her head out of the kitchen and gave us a huge smile, rushing over to me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Lance, mijo," she exclaimed. "It's about time you came home! And this must be Keith." She walked to him and took his hands, making him shirk back a bit.  
"Don't worry," I heard her say, under her breath but to Keith all the same. "I'm an omega too. Us minorities gotta stick together, caro." Keith smiled a bit, letting out a breath I didn't know he'd been holding. My mother was an omega too, and my dad was a beta. I got my alpha genes from my grandfather, while all of my other siblings were betas. My youngest niece and nephew were, though, respectively, an alpha and an omega. They'd just turned ten that past month. 

My mom, seemingly completely forgetting about me, dragged Keith into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. She fussed over him, chiding him on being too skinny and too pale. "You need to eat more, Keith. And get out into the sun. You look like a vampire- and not one of the hotties."

"Mom..."

"Oh, Lance, let me have some fun once in a while." She said with a smile. Keith gave Lance a 'really?' sort of look and jumped when my mother put a plate of food down in front of him. It seemed like a normal portion, but his eyes got wide.  
"This is so much food," He said. "Are you sure?"

She blinked and looked at me questioningly. "Of course, caro. Don't worry about it." She said to him and he smiled, thanking her. I sat down next to him and took my own plate, putting it down and eating from it. Keith ate too, and he seemed to really like it.  
After eating, Keith tried to help clear his place, but my mom just shooed him away, telling us to go do what we please. My siblings were in the backyard catching fireflies, so Keith and I watched through the window. 

Marco noticed and gave a smile, running up to the sliding glass door and opening it. "Lance! You're home!" He yelled. He looked to Keith and looked him up and down. "Is this your omega?" 

I flushed and laughed, Keith, turning beet red and groaning, hiding behind his hands. "No, no. This is my friend, Keith." 

"Oh," Marco said. He grinned and took Keith's hand. "Come on, then. We're catching cucubanos!"

"Fireflies." I translated. His mouth formed an 'o' in realization, but it didn't last for long, as he yelped when Marco tugged on his arm. 

They went out into the yard and Keith was suddenly swarmed by kids of all ages, from fourteen to four. They all chattered at him and Keith looked at me and mouthed 'help'. I laughed and jogged out behind him, thinning the sea of kids. There were only about five of them, but it was still a lot for someone who didn't really grow up with a lot of siblings.  
"Have you ever caught fireflies before?" I asked him. He shook his head but hesitated.

"I think my mom did it with me once, but I can't remember. It was so long ago..."

I raised my eyebrow and took his hand once more. "Come on, I'll show you how." I grabbed an empty mason jar from the ground and opened the top. There were already holes poked into the top, so there was no more work to be done.

"Okay, so you spot a firefly and you go up to it, then reach your hand up and intercept it," I said. I got one on my hand and let it crawl around for a moment before it flew away. "Like that." 

He looked away from me and caught one relatively easily, cupping it in his hand. "What do I do now?" He asked. I held out the open mason jar and Keith let the bug crawl in. I closed the top and showed him. "That's all there is to it," I said. He smiled at me.

Us and the kids played around in the yard some more, catching fireflies and playing games like manhunt and Marco-polo. Keith seemed to be having fun, and that made me happy. 

My mom called us in at around ten since the kids had a set bedtime. We laughed at their collective groan and helped my mom herd them inside. They all were in good spirits, though, and got to bed quickly. My mom ushered Keith and me to the basement, where there was a guest bedroom.  
"You stay with him tonight." She said to me after pulling me aside. "He needs someone right now." 

How my mom figured this out within a couple hours while I only had figured it out after a year or two was beyond me, but I just gave her a smile and nodded. She kissed me goodnight and we went our separate ways.  
I padded down the steps, seeing Keith sitting in one of the beanbag chairs on his phone. I walked over and sat on the floor in front of him, leaning back on the palms of my hands. "Hey Ke-"  
He quickly gave me his phone and stood, pacing the room fervently. I picked the pretty-much-shattered iPhone up out of my lap and looked at it.

-8:17 pm-

Tom: Where are you

Tom: If you don't come home right now I swear I'll beat your ass til you're dead

Tom: Where the fuck are you

Tom: I hope you know you're not getting dinner

Tom: Fucking fag get over here and take your beating like a man

Tom: Jesus Christ you're such a pussy

Tom: I'm gonna fucking kill you if you don't come home right now

Tom: I'm giving you an hour if you aren't back here by then I'm not letting you come back

-9:24 pm-

Tom: I told you I'd give you an hour 

Tom: Don't come back faggot

Tom: You'll find your shit in the front yard

Tom: Have fun living on the streets if I ever see your face again, you're dead

I looked up from his phone. He was still pacing, his brows furrowed deeply. "What the fuck is wrong with that guy?" I asked. Keith didn't respond. He looked far gone, his fist to his mouth and tears welling up in his eyes.  
"Keith?"  
He didn't acknowledge me at all, walking over to the bed and sitting, putting his head in his hands.  
"What am I going to do?" He muttered to himself. "God, I'm such a fuck-up. What the hell am I going to do?"  
I stood and hesitantly walked over to him.  
"Keith, are you alright?"

"No! Of course not! I'm fucking homeless! I'm too old for the system and I'm too young to be able to do anything! I have no family and no friends that I can live with, so I'll be out on the fucking streets."

"I'm sure your dad didn't mean any of that."

"Of course he did!"

I sighed and sat next to him. He was on the verge of a panic attack, and I didn't know how to calm him down. I knew how to fix panic attacks, but I don't know how to fix the part before it. That part was always... a gray area. He choked out a sob and curled into himself.  
And there it was. Keith's breath hitched and he pulled his hair, tears running down his cheeks like endless rivers. "J-Jesus Christ, I'm gonna d-die. I'm g-gonna die on the s-s-streets and no-one will remember m-me. God, I'm g-gonna fucking die!"

"Keith, breathe," I said. I putting my hand around his shoulders. His breath hitched again and he let out another sob. I pulled him into my side, where he buried his head into my hoodie. I shushed him when he tried to talk and ran my hand through his hair, telling him to breathe.  
"There's nothing you or I can do right now. Just breathe, Keith. Everything'll be fine."  
His sobs tapered and he pushed off of me, tears still falling down his face.  
"What am I going to do now?" He muttered, looking down at his shaking hands. "What am I going to do?" 

I put my hand on his shoulder again and he looked up. "Everything'll turn out. I promise." He looked away from me for a moment, then looked back.  
"How do you always know exactly what to say?" He asked me, a faint smile playing at his lips. A tear dripped down and off his chin, and I sighed, raising my hand to his cheek.  
"I dunno," I said. He huffed out a laugh and I pulled him into a hug. He hugged me back tightly, gratitude once again filling how he smelled.  
I think he smelled me too, at that moment, because he burrowed his face into the soft fabric of my jacket and just breathed.  
"We'll figure it out, Keith. I promise."

"Okay."

\---

We soon sort of forgot about the incident, though it still lingered in the back of our minds. I'm sure that it was more than just lingering in Keith's, but I still ushered the thoughts away as I stood.

"Wanna watch movies?" I asked, picking up some movie boxes and looking at the covers. 

"Sure." He said, albeit quietly. Scratch that 'I'm sure' bit. Keith was definitely thinking about what happened. It's not like a hug and a talk will fix that. I sighed and put in Mulan, pulling a small couch into the middle of the basement floor and sitting down. He sat down too, a little ways away from me, and looked down at his phone. The first time I peeked at it was during the beginning of the movie when he was just playing flappy bird. Then, a while later, he was reading the texts sent by his adopted father. I didn't want him to think about it, but it wasn't avoidable, I guess.  
He sighed softly and leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling.  
"Are you alright, dude?" I asked. The omega rubbed his face and looked at me with a tired sadness in his eyes.  
"I don't know." 

I paused Mulan, which was close to the end anyway, and turned to him. He looked down at his lap, where he fiddled with his phone. I silently hissed at myself for not being able to do more. I frowned. Then, I got an idea.  
"Hey, do you wanna dip?" I asked him. I really did doubt that either of us was getting any real sleep that night, so instead of watching movies and sitting silently with our thoughts, I figured that we could maybe do something.

"Dip?"

"Y'know, like, leave? We can drive around the city, go to the beach that's near my house; whatever you wanna do."

Keith raised his eyebrows slightly, in thought. He then sighed again and shrugged. "I mean, there's nothing else to do."

"Okay then." I stood and reached a hand out to him, helping him up. He hadn't worn a jacket to school that day, so I grabbed a blanket. My jackets were all the way upstairs and I didn't want to risk waking my parents- I'd get seriously chewed out for this. I pulled mine on and we crept through the house, leaving out the front door and getting into my car.  
Keith pulled the blanket, which was actually more of a comforter, around himself and shivered. It was understandable- it was around twenty-nine degrees outside, and the car hadn't heated up yet. It was cold, even for me, a person who really didn't get cold all that often. I turned the heat on full blast and backed out, rolling slowly off the driveway.

It was pretty quiet for a while, and Keith and I spoke briefly every now and then if only to point stuff out. The roads were pretty clear, lest for the occasional truck or so. I mean, it was around two in the morning, so there probably weren't many people who were awake.  
As I drove with no real destination in mind, snowflakes began to flurry in the air, dancing in the wind and shimmering in the light of my headlights.  
"Huh, look at that," I muttered to myself. Keith hummed quietly as if to ask me what. "Snow in the middle of fall."  
The car was warm and comfortable, and if I had to be honest, the combination of the cold atmosphere outside and the hearth of an a/c inside the car made me kind of sleepy. I wondered for a moment if Keith felt the same way, and sure enough, when I chanced a glimpse at Keith, he was pretty much clocked out. His eyes began to close, his head drooping forward, then he would jerk it back up again, making futile attempts to stay awake. I smiled and drove a little slower, just so I could keep an eye on him.  
He woke up again and took a deep breath, looking me in the eye. He frowned and yawned, then shifted to sit more comfortably in the seat. He sat up straighter, trying to be more alert, but with the heat blowing in his face it kind of backfired.  
I turned my eyes back onto the road and hummed something absentmindedly, smiling to myself.  
I heard his breathing even out and I looked over, seeing him half-dozing with his head against the window. His eyes would flutter open, then slowly close, then open again, then close. It seemed as if he'd given up on trying to keep his head upright, but he still fought sleep. I wondered if he was always like this, and if so, why. I pulled into a parking lot and he woke up a little more at the sudden stop of the car. He lifted his head from the window and looked at me blearily.  
"Why'd we stop?" He asked. His words slurred slightly. He was tired. How long had it been since he'd had a decent night's rest? Probably too long. 

"You seem exhausted, man," I said. I was tired too, and at that moment, in the warmth of the car the contrasted so starkly with the freeze outside, I wanted to sleep. 

"'M fine," He muttered. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, trying to wake himself up.

"Keith, you can sleep, y'know," I told him. He looked at me with uncertainty. He seemed to hold trepidation in whatever he did that was out of the norm, and this was definitely out of the norm- sleeping under a comforter in a warm car with an alpha who he couldn't call a friend but something more right after being disowned by his adoptive father. If I were him, I'd be cautious as well.  
"I don't know, Lance--"

"It's okay. C'mere." I grabbed his arm and tugged him down so that he lay in my lap. I looked down on his face- pale as the snow outside with the darkest hair I'd ever seen, his nose and his cheeks pink with fluster and cold, those gray, slate gray eyes glazed over with a tired film as he blinked sleep away. He was drawn out, stressed, battered and beaten. He'd barely ever been loved, barely ever been touched in a way that was actually positive. That's why he kind of stiffened whenever I lay a finger on him.  
He looked up at me, hesitant. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice husky and quiet. He was exhausted. I could see that. He'd had enough bullshit to last a lifetime, and he was always ready to deal with more. He didn't want to burden me, or anyone else for that matter, with his problems, which really weren't a burden at all.  
"Yeah. You can relax. It's alright." I brushed the hair out of his face, and for the first time, I truly saw him as someone who could be an omega- not because he was submissive or obedient, but because he was unique and soft and warm as the heater. The tension in his body loosened and he sighed softly. He shifted around a little bit and closed his eyes. I pulled the comforter up further on him and kind of on me and he curled up into it, opening his eyes slightly then letting them close again on their own. He fell asleep like this, breathing deeply and steadily as I ran my hands through his hair. 

I smiled down at him, thumbing his cheekbone lightly. He was absolutely beautiful. my head back against the window, ignoring the cold coming in through the glass. Keith was warm. The comforter was warm. The car was warm. It didn't matter. I closed my eyes, slowly drifting off while listening to the ever so slight sound of the wind outside of Keith's quiet breathing.  
I may have been asleep for ten minutes, fifteen at the most, when I was awoken by a sharp yelp and something hard coming into contact with my nose. 

I groaned at the pain, going to hold my nose, and opened my eyes to see Keith looking back to me in shock. His eyes were wide and afraid, his mouth ajar just a tad.  
"Oh my god," He said, his voice shaky. He reached his equally shaky hand out, as if to touch me, then pulled it back and put it on his forehead. "Oh my god, you're okay; you're not dead. God- you were fucking dead."

I took my hand from my nose and looked at him with concern, all my prior anger at him for quite literally headbutting my face gone. "Dead? Keith, what are you talking about?"  
He looked up at me with realization. "A dream." He whispered. His mouth fell into an 'o' as he remembered where he was and why he was there. "Oh."

"Are you alright, Keith?" I felt like I'd been asking that to him too much.  
He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm fine. It was only a dream, so you don't have to worry about me." He murmured, shifting so that I had all the comforter and he was resting his head on the window. His eyes followed snowflakes that fell near the glass.  
"Keith..."

"What?" He snapped, turning his head back to me. "What do you want?"

I was taken aback for a moment, then I frowned, irritated. "What the hell, man? I was worried about you- now I see you're fine like you said. I've been nothing but nice. I thought that something between us would've changed, but I guess not."  
He looked at me with surprise and regret, and I immediately regretted what I said, too. But I'd said too much to come back now. "Whatever," I grumbled. "I'm outta here."

I got out of the car and immediately shivered at the sudden loss of warmth. I walked away, hearing Keith call my name but not looking back. I wasn't going to be his alpha- I doubt anyone would want to. Such an aloof, anti-social omega. Such a piece of shit omega. Such a pretty, quiet, reserved, wonderful omega. And I'm... not cut out to deal with his shit. 

The snow fell around me and I could practically feel my insides freezing. I was cold. Very cold. I wished I were back in that car with that omega of- not mine. That omega. I wanted to be back with him, relishing the warmth from the heater and his head in my lap while I drifted in and out of sleep, playing with his dark hair and watching his pupils dance behind his eyes in a dream.  
I sniffed. A tear ran down my own cheek. God, what was he doing to me?

I felt a warm hand grab my wrist and I turned, one of my tears dripping off my chin while his face was drowned in them, and he pulled me into a hug. He sobbed into my shoulder and I held him, my own tears falling into the end of his long hair.  
"I'm sorry." He said to me, remorseful and sad. "I'm sorry for being a dick."

"Me too."

"I'm sorry for putting my shit onto you."

"Don't be."

"I'm sorry for making you feel like shit."

"You didn't."

I pushed him off of me and he looked down, brushing tears away sheepishly. "Let's talk in the car. At this rate, your face is going to freeze over." He choked out a laugh and we jogged back to the car, sighing as we got in. 

He looked at me and I looked at him, and we both smiled.  
"I'm sorry." He said. I took his hand.  
"Me too."

I pulled him closer to me and we both ended up in the driver's seat, him on my lap with his head leaning in the crook of my neck and me, sorta splayed out on the soft leather. I pulled the comforter over us, the warmth trapped in the car making the windows fog up.  
"I'm tired." He murmured after a while. I knew. He'd been tired, metaphorically and physically, for so long. He needed rest. And so did I.

"Then sleep," I murmured back. He hummed and I felt his eyelashes tickle my neck as he blinked a couple times.  
"I can't. Not right now. I'm... I'm restless."

"Okay." The silence we once had returned, giving way for the wind outside, steadily increasing. The snow didn't fall as hard as it did before, which made me glad, as we wouldn't get snowed in the car. I pulled out my phone for a moment, seeing that the time was nearing three thirty in the morning. I was so glad it was a Saturday- otherwise, I'd have to get ready for school in a couple of hours. All I wanted to do was stay here with Keith. 

Lance: For you in the morning- we're not far. We'll be back soon. 

I texted my mom so she wouldn't worry, though I figured she wouldn't care much. I put my phone on the dashboard and settled back, the back of my head leaning on the window.  
"Who'd you text?" His voice was quiet, half-asleep. He wasn't as restless as he thought- I smiled. 

"It was my mom," I said. "I told her we'd be back soon."

"Mm." 

I felt another ghost on my neck; his eyes closed for a moment, then they opened. They fluttered shut, then they opened again. He shifted around and sighed softly, his entire body relaxing on mine. I didn't realize he'd been tense. His breathing evened out briefly, then he woke up again, taking a deep breath.  
I figured that falling asleep was hard for Keith. Hard being that he didn't like sleep, so he fought it.  
"You don't have to stay awake, Keith," I said to him. I took a glimpse at him- his eyes half closed, those bags under his eyes deeper than ever, his eyes shining in what was left of the moonlight behind clouds. He met mine and gave me a melancholy smile; I knew not to bring it up again. He probably didn't want to have that dream again. To me, my own death in a dream would be funny, but for him, depending on the way it was delivered, had to be terrifying. 

After a while, the cycle of sleeplessness came to a halt when his eyelids fell shut for the last time and he succumbed. I sighed to myself and closed my own eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. 

I woke up later to another yelp. Keith, again? I looked at him, and he was still out like a light. I raised an eyebrow and looked out the window, seeing a cat on the front hood fighting a bird. I groaned quietly and saw that the sun had begun to rise. It was early. I figured that I'd been asleep for a couple hours and that I should probably get back home before my mom found us missing and called the police without even looking at her own phone. I took out mine and sent her another quick text.

Lance: We're back home.

I maneuvered Keith off me, freezing when he stirred, but sighing when he didn't wake, and leaned his head up against the window. He shivered at the coolness of the glass and curled up a little tighter with the comforter.

The clock said that it was around five. I could get us home, get in bed, and sleep til nine. It was a good plan. So that's what I did.  
I pulled into the driveway of my house and woke Keith- though I doubt he would remember any of the following actions, as he was mumbling shit to me in a completely different language- walking with him down to the basement and getting on the bed. He immediately went back to sleep, which I was grateful for. I actually changed out of my jeans and got into a pair of sweats, leaving my t-shirt as is. I got into bed and pulled Keith to me, closing my eyes and covering both of us with the now mussed comforter. 

\---

About two hours later, Keith and I sat in the kitchen while I made us breakfast. We weren't planning on being up so early, and I really doubted that either of us got the recommended amount of sleep, but it was whatever. We both woke up around the same time and couldn't get back to sleep, so we didn't bother trying.  
He yawned and laid his head on his arms. "I'm still tired." He muttered, meeting my eyes as I turned to meet his with an irritated smile.

"Same," I said. He smiled back at me and picked at some scabs on his knuckles. I took that as a dismissal and went back to making eggs.  
Honestly, I was just glad that nobody had any blackmail on me or Keith. When I would take anyone home at any time, my siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews and even sometimes my own parents would make it a point to try and get embarrassing pictures with me and that person; regardless of whether I took them on a date. It was annoying as all hell, and I was hoping that they didn't get anything. I doubted they did. I would've seen it by now.

I transferred some eggs from the pan to one of the two plates and handed it to Keith. He thanked me and shoveled the eggs down his throat. I sat down with my own plate and ate at a moderate pace. You'd think that Keith'd never been fed before. It was... fascinating, in an odd way of putting it.

We finished and decided to take a walk to the beach near my house. He remembered that I'd mentioned something about it the night before, and asked if we could go. I told him that we could just walk there, and he agreed. I wrote a quick note to my parents and stuck it on the fridge. We walked outside and he shivered. This time, I came prepared. I tossed him an old jacket of mine and he caught it, looking at me with surprise. A light blush dusted his cheeks and he pulled it on, muttering his thanks. I nodded and we began our walk.  
He rubbed his hands together and pulled a box of cigarettes from his back pocket. I eyed him as he took one out, holding it between his teeth and taking out a lighter. He exhaled, the smoke mixing with the hot breath in the air.  
"You really need to stop smoking," I said. He looked at me briefly and shrugged, holding the cig in his fingers and blowing out again. 

"I know it's bad, Lance," He said. "But after what happened, I just... I just need a smoke, man."

I hummed in acknowledgment and looked away from him. "Why do you smoke?" I kind of already knew the answer to this question. I asked anyway.

"Um... It's the only thing I can really control, I think," He said, taking the cig from his mouth and letting the smoke stream from his lips. "I dunno. I feel like I don't have any control in life- none over myself, who I hang out with, who my family is, whether I have family at all -and this is the one thing I have control over. I can control my body, so I'll control it how I want to, y'know? I know it's bad. I know that. And I do wanna stop, I swear. But I don't want to lose that control. It's the ground I stand on, and I don't want that ground to be swiped out from under my feet just because I quit. It's weird."

Oh. Not what I was expecting. Honestly, I really should stop expecting stuff with Keith. He's different. I can't predict how he acts. I frowned and sighed, the hot air from my lungs mimicking his smoke. "That makes sense, I guess," I muttered. He blew out and frowned too. 

"Sorry," He said, quietly but surely.

"It's fine, I get it." 

We walked a little longer and got to the beach, stepping down from the walkway onto the cool sand. The sun was beginning to make its entrance on the horizon- I could see some of its rays, popping up from the lilac sky and barely-there stars. I took Keith's hand and tugged him near the water, leaving our shoes near the pavement. We sat down and watched the sunrise, his hand still sitting in mine. 

I looked over at him. It looked as if he didn't notice our hands intertwined- he was too engrossed by the beauty to even take a peek. I turned my head away and looked at the sunrise too, greeted with near-blinding lights and gorgeous ever-changing colors. He was right to keep his eyes glued on the scene.  
"Hey, Lance?"

His voice was quiet, just above a whisper, almost so low that I couldn't hear it over the subtle lapping of waves.  
"Yeah?"

"Why did you do all this?"

"What?"

"I dunno... everything. Taking me home, helping me sleep. Chiding me for smoking. Just... caring for me, I guess? Yeah, why'd you do it?"

"Because I do care for you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your friend."

"Oh."

The waves overpowered our conversation once more, but I could've sworn I heard disappointment in his tone when he responded.  
"Is that... okay?" I asked, as if impulsively. He took a deep breath and looked at the sky, where the night's stars faded into a morning bluish glow.  
"I mean," He began. "You're supposed to be an alpha, but you aren't cocky or wily or mean. You're sweet and considerate, even of me, some dumb omega who can barely take care of himself. I just... I don't get it."

"What are you asking me?"

"Why you're acting so... not like an alpha?"

"I don't know."

He hummed.  
"Do you want... do you want something more?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't know how this would go- I knew I liked Keith from the moment I met him. It'd been a couple years since then, and the love only grew. It wasn't just an infatuation with the only omega in the immediate vicinity- it was an actual, flowering crush that had developed over time. It was only now that I was acting on it. 

I looked over at him. He was looking at his knees, his face red yet expressionless. I wondered what he was thinking; I never knew what Keith was thinking.  
"I... I think so." He murmured. My heart beat out of my chest. My skin felt hotter than it has in a while, and my brain was suddenly clouded with anticipation. I wonder what Keith was feeling right then.

"O-Okay," I said. "Where do we go from here?"

He swallowed hard. He looked at me with those beautiful eyes of his- indigo-slate, filled with appreciation, gratefulness, and happiness, yet at the same time, filled with fear and suspense. I noticed that, for the first time in a while, I saw no loneliness in those eyes. And the emotion that was, before, undecipherable, I could see was something far greater than infatuation or enamored joy- it was love. It was deep and unending and cavernous. He smiled, and, even in the light of day, I saw stars.  
He grabbed my shirt and pulled me to him, slamming his mouth onto mine. His lips were chapped as all hell, and I figured I could give him some chapstick when we got home. I could taste the nicotine on his breath; he tasted like smoke and ash and campfires- it was so Keith. I wondered what I tasted like. He kissed me for a few moments then pulled back, touching the tips of his fingers to his lips.

"That's where we go," He said, giving me a grin. I blushed hard and laughed, pulling him back into another kiss. We rolled onto the damp sand so that I was above him and he was below me, looking up at me with shining gray eyes.  
"Be my omega," I said to him, breathless and hopeful. He grinned so widely that I thought his chapped lips would split, but they didn't. He nodded and pulled me back down. 

\---

We walked along the beach, our pinkies laced together as we swung our arms lazily. A smile still lingered at those cherry lips of his, and his cheeks tinted with a light flush. I smiled too- I knew that this was what I'd been wanting. It was just amazing that he wanted it as well. I sighed internally; I was really happy. I wondered if Keith was, too. 

He suddenly stopped and our hands came undone. I looked back at him with a confused expression, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the ocean, his eyes playing along those waves, almost silently lapping at the shore.  
"Why'd you stop?" I asked. My voice was quieter than usual. I put it up to the serenity of this place, of being with Keith and being happy. But he looked thoughtful. More so than usual, anyway.

"Do you remember when you asked me what my favorite color was?" He asked me, his voice soft and pensive. I had to think about it for a moment. I'd forgotten about that- it'd been about a month and a half ago if I recall correctly. I finally remembered the day and hummed an affirmation.

"I think I have one now."

"And that is?"

"I don't know."

I chuckled. "How do you know you have a favorite color if you don't know what it is?"

"Because I don't think it's just one."

"Oh?"

He turned to me, that smile coming back to his lips. "Yeah. I think... The beige of your home's walls, the green of your mom's sweater, the gold of those fireflies and the gray of that comforter that I fell asleep in last night. The russet of your Delta, the silver of the metal under the bright red chipped paint on the playground, the brown of the mulch underneath... the sand under our feet, the oranges and yellows and indigos and violets of this sunrise; But what I think I love the most is the midnight sky, those speckles of white stars all over, and the blue of your eyes.  
I guess you could say that you're my favorite color."

I blinked, then smiled. I went over and interlocked our hands once more. "Then I could say the same," I said. He grinned back at me and took my face in his hand, pulling me down for a chaste kiss. 

My omega... the one everyone had heard about but never believed in, until now. My teenage omega who was brushed off just for this fact. My insubordinate, chaotic, unpredictable, teenage omega who could change the world, but had been rejected by it so many times that he came to see it as a minor nuisance.  
My Keith Kogane- he was strong, he was aggressive, he was so very, incredibly sweet, and he crumbled my world to the ground.  
But he built it right back up again.


	2. When Morning Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is an angsty vampire who meets a not-so-angsty vampire hunter. But neither of them know it yet.

I once saw a boy in a place so secluded that not even my older brother knows about it. I saw him, walking along the beach, his bare feet making imprints in the sand. I found this utterly infuriating, as I came here for time to be alone and here he was, intruding on my sanctity. Nevertheless, I sat where I usually sat and watched the sun rise before school. I made sure, too, to send him an angry glare when he looked at me with a smile and a wave. I could've been friendlier, yes, but I've been alive for too long to care about meaningless little niceties.

I saw him later at school in my calc class, sitting at the front of the room and texting on his iPhone. At first, I was pretty annoyed, but then I got a good look at him, and saw that he didn't seem too malicious. But he still wasn't allowed on my beach. It was my beach after all. Or, at least, my part of it. I tsked and rolled my eyes, getting to work as the teacher came into the classroom. I took notes as he spoke, absentmindedly running my tongue along my fangs, almost pricking it in the process.   
The boy wasn't in my next class. But he was in my art class. I thought about it- just who was he? A transfer student? Where from, if so? Foreign exchange student? If so, exchanged with who and from what foreign country? There were so many questions that I thought would never be answered. Then, during lunch, as I was sitting at a table alone, he sat right across from me. I raised my eyes from my sketchbook to his and my hard expression suddenly softened. Right across from me was the brightest, most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. If I'd had breakfast that morning, my face would be bright red. But, thankfully, I hadn't.

"I saw you this morning," He said, his voice lilted with a slight accent, probably from a Latin country of some sort. Puerto Rico, Cuba, maybe. Wherever from, I like it. "On the beach?"  
I bit my lip and said nothing, looking back down. When I looked back, he was still staring at me with that expectant gaze. I frowned, then raised an eyebrow.   
"What of it?" I deadpanned, trying to open my mouth as little as possible. To be honest, I tried not to speak much in school. It was easier to hide that way. This was the first time I'd really spoken in a year and a half, other than to Shiro.

He huffed and crossed his arms. "I was just trying to be neighborly, man. I live in front of that beach, and I'm guessing you live near there too?" I nodded.

"So?"

He looked at me as if I were being difficult, and I was confused. What did he want from me?   
"I'm asking if you wanna be my amigo, yuma. Is it really that hard to get it through your thick skull?"

I blinked. Amigo means friend, right? Yeah. Wait, he wanted to be my friend? He wanted to be my friend. I almost laughed out loud, but I cracked a smirk instead. "You don't want to be my friend. Rumor has it I'm a vampire." I could've sworn that his face twitched in surprise, and maybe concern, but then it was back to that nonchalant smile before I knew what had happened. I was going to say something, maybe apologize for my dumb joke, but he beat me to it.

"Cool. Vampires are pretty neat."

My heart, if it could beat, would've skipped one in that moment. It was all said jokingly, but what he said just stuck with me, to be honest. I looked back down to my sketchbook with a small smile, and he slipped me a piece of paper as the bell rang. I looked up to him and he gave me a grin, lop-sided and cocky. I opened the paper when he left and my eyes widened when I saw his number scrawled in blue pen. I smiled and put it in my pocket for later use.

\---

I burst through the door to my home, throwing my backpack near the coat rack and taking off my shoes. I walked inside, barefoot, and fell onto the couch with a sigh. "Hey, Keith," Shiro popped his head out from the hallway, presumably coming from his office. He was a radiologist, so he worked from home most of the time and made good money. "How was school?"

"It was fine." I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. I thought for a moment, then leaned forward. "I'm gonna go out. Don't worry, I'll be back by curfew." And with that, I pulled my shoes on and left, walking down the sidewalk to my little part of the beach. I walked down the cement steps and sat in my usual spot, just like that morning, taking out my phone and the little piece of paper I'd been given.

Keith: Hey, it's the guy from lunch. I never got your name

Unknown: Oh yeah hi the name's Lance

Keith: That's a gay name

Lance: Fuck off vampire

Vampire: Lanky piece of shit

Lancc: Die

Vampire: Can't die if you're already dead bitch

Lancc: Damn you've won this time

Lancc: Meet me on the beach

Vampire: K

I waited for a while, playing subway surfers on my phone. I chuckled to myself, the knowledge that he kind of knew what I was sinking into my skull. I've been alive for too long. Way too long. But nobody knows that, thankfully.

"Hey! Vampire kid!" I heard a yelling down the shore and looked up, grinning when I saw him. I'd already discarded my shoes, and it seemed as if he had too. He jogged up to me and sized me up, in all of my black-jeans-and-a-red-flannel glory. "The name's Lance."

"Keith."

He shook my hand, his hand gripping mine tightly. Again, if I'd eaten at all that day, my face would be red as a goddamn tomato. This was the first time I was happy to not eat.   
"Why were you here this morning?" He asked, sitting down on the damp sand. He looked out onto the water, and I wondered if that was what I looked like in the mornings- thoughtful, peaceful, unapproachable. I decided that maybe it was and sat down next to him.

"I come down here every morning." I said. "I like watching the sun rise."  
He hummed and smiled, and I could feel his gaze on mine, even though I wasn't looking. "I do too." He said, quieter than what I figured was his normal speaking voice. We fell into a comfortable silence and I sighed internally. So this is what it was like to have a friend? Was Lance my friend? If he was my friend, why? I dug my toes in the sand absentmindedly and I, once again, felt his gaze on me.

"Why do people call you a vampire?" He asked. I stiffened, wondering if he figured out that I was actually a vampire. I then realized that I'd told him that, and kicked myself for doing so. It would be problematic if he were to come over and joke about it with Shiro. I groaned silently and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm so pale, or something. I'm also allergic to garlic, even though I eat it anyway."

"Anaphylactic?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Only a rash." I replied. I tore my eyes from the water to his and wondered if I even looked away from the ocean at all. His eyes held waves in them. Sea foam and tsunamis, crashing around in those royal blue irises. I saw blue skies and settling seas, like what one would see after a monsoon, or something. It was incredible. I blinked and smiled at him. "What about you? Where are you from?"  
He looked away from me and back, nostalgically, onto the water. His smile was reminiscent of happy times with family, of surfing and shell-finding. "I'm from Cuba, but I lived in Little Havana, you know, in South Florida, before coming here."

"That's interesting. Why here?" His face twitched again, and I knew for sure that he was hiding something. But, of course, having known him for a total of a day, I didn't say anything. I probably should've.

"Good colleges. I don't know. I needed residence, I guess." Liar.

"That's important."

"Yeah."

Another silence. I found it nice, though, whereas I would normally find silence pretty annoying. He was annoying, of course, but not in the way I was used to. We listened to the bobbing of waves and watched as the sun sank lower on the horizon. After the sunset, I remembered- I had a curfew. I checked my watch and cursed, grabbing Lance's attention. I stood and ran to get my shoes, picking them up and running to the stairs I came down on.

"Where are you going?" He yelled after me. I stopped on the top step and turned back, looking at him. I grinned genuinely for what seemed like the first time in years.

I waved with one hand and put my other around my mouth to make myself louder. "See you tomorrow!" I yelled back. Then, I ran home, that stupid grin still plastered on my face. I whooped loudly into empty space when I was sure I was far enough away from Lance. I would be late for curfew, but that was okay. I'm not supposed to be out after dark, but that was okay. I had someone who was hunting me down, but that was okay. For the first time, everything seemed okay. All because of one boy who trespassed into my beach, into my life. Maybe I would let him stay.

~~~~

I saw the boy on my first day of high school. I walked along the beach, watching the sun rise and making imprints in the damp sand behind me. He was sitting a little ways up, and I noticed that he had a backpack near him. I wondered if he was going to school after this too. I smiled and waved when he caught my eye, and I could've sworn he started glaring at me, but I was too far away to tell. I then turned back and walked away, leaving him alone to watch the sunrise.

I saw him later as I was walking into my new calculus class. I got a good look at him for the first time- long dark hair in a ponytail, his bangs falling into his face in tangled clumps. His skin was pale, ashy, and his hands were small and stained with graphite and marker. His head was down, over a small sketchbook, and I sat down, not really paying attention. Maybe, if fate allowed it, we would become friends at some point. But this point wasn't then, I thought. I was wrong, as he noticed me as well. We stole glances at each other all throughout my art class, and I wondered what this kid's deal was.   
I saw him again at lunch. We had the same lunch period, too? He sat alone and I felt something deep in my stomach that I couldn't describe. Pity? No. Guilt? No, not that either. All I knew is that I had the overwhelming urge to walk away from him, to never pay him any mind ever again. But I knew that my mother would tell me that sitting with someone who's alone is always the right thing to do, no matter the person. Unless it was a vampire. If that person was a vampire, skewer the bitch right then and there.

I come from a long line of renowned vampire hunters. I came here, to this school, because we received an anonymous tip from someone who lived here that there was a vampire dwelling in this town. Or vampires. The tip didn't specify. Seeing as I had the best track record out of anyone in my family, I was sent here to live with my grandmother while I worked. I would still go to school and such, but I would be investigating while doing so. That's why this-

"You don't want to be my friend- rumor has it I'm a vampire."

-scared me. I knew it was a joke, but it still irked me, as I still had the bad feeling deep in my stomach and felt the urge to run. But I decided to be nice and give him my number. He didn't seem like that bad a guy, and I did need friends for an alibi. I slipped him the note and walked away as the bell rang, not needing to turn around to know what he looked like- flabbergasted, maybe even a little flustered, depending on how he swung. I walked away and went to my chem class with a cocky smirk on my face.

He-Keith- texted me later that day, when we were out of school. I met him on the beach and we talked, which was nice. We watched the sunset on the water, and I wondered if vampires could enjoy this too. But I decided that wasn't possible, as they're unintelligible monsters and they turn to stone in the sun. They wouldn't enjoy the sun even if they could, because only good people enjoy normalcy. They only like blood and killing. Right? Yes.

I looked up as Keith stood, running up the beach and grabbing his shoes. He ran up and I called after him, asking where he was going. He just grinned at me, a face of pure joy, and yelled back that he'd see me tomorrow. He ran away and I frowned, standing myself and walking back home, my shoes in hand. I wondered- was it just me, or did I see fangs in his mouth when he yelled? It was probably me. Right?

Yes.

~~~~

I ran inside and slammed the door, taking off my shoes and jumping onto the couch. "Keith? Is that you?" Shiro yelled from his room. "You're late." He came out and gave me a pointed look. I just grinned back at him and covered my face with my hands.

"Sorry." Came my muffled reply. I could practically hear his eyebrow raising at my behavior.  
"What happened?" He asked, coming out from the hallway and putting his hands on his hips. He looked authoritative, but my brother's actually just a big softy.   
"I dunno," I said. "I made a friend, I guess."

"Oh really? Who?" I sat up and tried to stop smiling, finding that I couldn't.

"His name is Lance. He's from Florida, or Cuba, I think."

Shiro furrowed his brows, seemingly concerned. "Did you get his last name?" I raised my own eyebrow, shaking my head no. "Is he a McClain?"   
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Lance? No. I don't think that some Cuban kid in my high school would be the super talented rookie vampire hunter. He doesn't seem like the type."

"Okay," Shiro said. "But be careful out there. I heard that there's a vampire hunter in the town right now, so we're stepping on eggshells. We need to lay low." I swallowed hard, nodding. A vampire hunter, huh? I'd need to heed Shiro's advice for once in my life. I huffed and ran a hand through my hair. "Don't miss curfew again, Keith. You could get hurt, or even worse, killed."  
I nodded again and stood, cracking my back.  
"I'm gonna get something to eat." I said, walking out of the room and into the kitchen. Shiro's eyes trained onto me as I did, but once I was behind a closed door, I released a huge sigh. This was going to be nerve-wracking, at the very least. I sighed again and went to the fridge, grabbing a juicebox of animal blood. If I weren't a vampire, I would be a vegetarian. I hated this so much, but if I didn't drink it I would die. I drank it quickly without really tasting it and threw the juicebox in the trash, leaving the room and going to my room. My watch read twelve, so I said goodnight to Shiro, who was still working, and retired to my room for a night chock-filled with outdated vines and shitty fanfiction.

\---

That next morning, I woke up with a killer headache. I checked the clock and swore, groaning and getting up out of bed. Wednesdays are such a drag. I hated Wednesdays. What a terrible day to be alive. I took some Advil and greeted Shiro with a grunt when he said hi. He drank coffee, and I wondered how he did. I've only ever been able to drink tea, since real food can sometimes make me super nauseous. But he ate literally everything on top of the required amount of blood he needed to stay sane. I grabbed a piece of toast and a thermos of caffeinated tea, sitting at the table for around five minutes. I frowned against my now-dissipating headache and finished up, pulling on my jacket and leaving the house to go watch the sunrise. Lance wasn't there. Typical- Wednesdays were always the worst.

Wait- scratch that. I saw Lance when I went into school that morning, talking to a couple people who looked familiar, maybe from classes. He looked over to me and grinned, waving at me. I smiled back and jogged over to him, my black bag thumping onto my back as my feet hit the pavement. I finally made my way up to him. "Mornin'" He said, and I could still detect the little bit of that gruff morning voice that he irrefutably had.   
"Good morning." I said. I noticed that, even when everyone was silently walking around in a dazed stupor, I was still one of the quietest ones in the small rotunda area. The girl next to him caught my eye and I met her gaze. She was short and bespectacled, her lips a matte green and her nails the same color. She gave me a pointed look and I got a vibe from her that I didn't recognize. "Hi," I said to her, sticking out my hand. She looked at it. "I'm Keith."

"The vampire kid?" She asked, her lips curving downward in a skeptical frown. I gave a sheepish smile and nodded slightly. Her eyes narrowed and she looked from me to Lance and back to Lance. She then grabbed my arm and dragged me around a pillar, giving Lance a glare when he tried to follow. She practically threw me around to face her and stood her ground in front of me. "Who are you?" She asked, her words venom-filled and strong.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I sensed something off coming from her. Something non-human. I didn't trust this, though, and kept acting innocent.  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, vampire." She growled. I blinked, seemingly in surprise.

"What?"  
She pushed me up against the cement of the pillar and looked up at me from where she stood, which was slightly lower than me. "Don't play dumb," She said, her eyes narrowing. "I could smell you from a mile away."

"What are you?"

She grinned, showing sharp canines in the front of her mouth. "A guarddog." She grumbled, her voice low and menacing. A werewolf? Here? How'd she even get here? Did Lance know? Did anyone know? I broke into a cold sweat and backed even further against the pillar. She cackled quietly and punched me lightly in the arm.  
"I'm just messin' with ya, man," She said. She gave me another grin that made me wonder if she meant it, though. She backed up and walked back to Lance, giving him a smile and probably explaining to him that we just needed to chat.   
I sighed heavily and pushed myself off the pillar, walking up to the two with a shaky smile. I caught Pidge's eye and she winked, a wolfish grin spreading across her face. A chill went down my spine, and the bell rang. Lance smiled at us both and waved as he left, bidding us farewell. That left us two in the rotunda, having a staredown. She then cackled semi-loudly.   
"Shit, I like you, vampire," She said, her grin widening. "Don't worry. I won't tell Lance about your little... condition. Only because I don't want to see you dead." She snickered and walked over, handing me a slip of paper with her number on it.   
"You need anything," She said. "Don't hesitate to text." She then left, her green skirt swaying as she walked. I wondered how something so small and rather cute could be quite so deadly.

\---

I met Lance at the beach after school again today. We spoke and laughed and walked through the water. I have to admit, I began to develop a bit of a crush on him. He was just so pretty and sweet and funny. I couldn't help it. His smile was just so... nice to look at, to say the least. It was an understatement to say he was easy on the eyes, and an understatement to say that he was easy on the ears. He was perfect, in every way possible. I would find myself staring at him, wondering what our last names would look like together.

Lance Kogane

Keith McClain

Keith and Lance Kogane-McClain

Keith and Lance McClain-Kogane

How nice a thought for an immortal creature. That's where I always faltered. I would never be able to hold a relationship with him- he was mortal, and I was a vampire. He had a short lifespan and I would live indefinitely. Not to mention that he was probably straight. I sighed to myself as I walked home that night, holding my sandals in my fingertips. The night grew darker with each passing second and I frowned, walking a little quicker as to get home.   
That's when I heard the scream.   
I was almost home, nearing the driveway, when I heard a yell that sounded so familiar and so close. That one, ear-piercing shriek that made me flinch. I turned quickly, dropping my shoes and running to where I heard the scream. It was Lance. It was Lance- Lance was in danger. I ran faster, completely forgetting the fact that I was supposed to be inside at all times during the night. 

My ears and feet led me to the mouth of a forest. I ran in, ignoring the pain in my feet. I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I ignored that too. The voices I heard got louder with each passing second of me running, and I could hear what they were saying. I slowed and hid behind a tree, doing my best not to step on any twigs.

"Get back! I'm the fuckin' McClain family heir. I'm not afraid to kick your ass, vampire scum!" Lance? I craned my head to see what was happening, seeing Lance on the ground with someone standing over him.   
Someone who I found familiar- Lotor. I stifled a gasp and watched as Lance grabbed for a sharp stick, holding it up to Lotor. Lotor just snickered and batted it out of Lance's hand.

"This is the McClain family heir? How pitiful. They can't even afford to send their heavy-hitters to defeat me. Young boy, I will let you go. But only if," Lotor turned, locking eyes with me. I stiffened. "He shows himself." My mouth ran dry and everything seemed to freeze in the moment. I felt my body begin to tremor. I put my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes tightly, as if I could mask my being there.   
I heard footsteps coming toward me and I opened my eyes, seeing Lotor right in front of my face. I let out a yelp and jumped back, getting into fighting stance defensively. I felt my fangs grow and my eyesight heightened, a tell-tale sign that my nerves were getting the better of me. I tried to calm myself down a tad, breathing deeply as I stared at Lotor. He grinned and leaned forward, sprinting at me in an instant. I snarled and clawed at him with my now-talons, but I was no match. He punched me in the face- hard. He kicked me when I was down. Literally. My head went foggy as he repeatedly kicked my temple. There was barely even a fight. He had me writhing on the ground after only a moment, straddling me in a position I otherwise would've found sexual. I cried out as his own talons dug deep into the soft flesh of my neck. I opened my eyes and met Lance's horrified gaze. I furrowed my brows and yelled again in pain.   
"Go!" I hacked, feeling blood pooling in the back of my throat. "Run! Go, Lan-" I coughed up the blood and it splattered onto my hoodie. My vision began to blur, but I saw the blue of his t-shirt running into the woods. I closed my eyes, smiling a bit. At least he would live. I closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate- to die here in the woods, by Lotor's hand, in an attempt to save Lance. It was honorable.  
Then fate changed. Lotor released his grip and grunted, getting up off me and staggering back. I forced my eyes open and frowned slightly upon seeing Lotor, up against a tree, pulling a wooden stake out of his chest. He slid down it, a trail of blood visible on the bark, and coughed up a good amount of blood. He looked up at... Lance? Why was Lance still there? I saw Lance kick Lotor til he fell sideways, presumably dead. Then, he turned to me. I wasn't in my right mind, but if I had been, I would've ran for the hills. The utter contempt in his eyes would've bored right through my soul, that scowl on his lips ripped through me like I was paper. But I wasn't in my right mind. I just mumbled his name as he picked me up, then passed out in his arms as he ran towards my house. 

~~~

After I finished Lotor off, I turned to Keith. He lay on the ground, looking at me through cloudy eyes. I frowned. He was a vampire. I sighed and put a hand to my head, walking over and looking down at him. His mouth was slightly open and blood trickled from his lips. I could see hints of those fangs, pure white and sharp as daggers. I bent down and gathered him in my arms.  
"Lance..." My name came out of his mouth and I almost froze, meeting his gaze. He was super out of it. That must have been why he wasn't responding to my being a vampire hunter. To be honest, I should've left him there to die. But I didn't. I picked him up and ran him out of the forest, back to the house that I'd seen him head to on most days. I ran like my life depended on it- but it wasn't my life, it was his.   
I wondered why I was doing this. Maybe it was because I felt bad. I scratched that option. Maybe it was because he saved me. Scratched. Maybe it was because... because I liked him. A right answer buzzer dinged in my head and I internally groaned. I'd fallen in love with a vampire. Being friends with a werewolf wasn't bad enough, but now I had a vampire on my hands? What kind of monster hunter was I? Not a very good one, apparently, though I'd just killed one of the most notorious vampires in the tri-state area. 

I panted as I ran, feeling him go limp in my arms. He'd passed out- that, honestly, was to be expected. I saw his house and pushed myself to go further, to run harder. I did so and got to his porch, knocking (with some difficulty) and yelling for someone to help. That someone, his brother, maybe, opened the door and gasped. The three of us were frozen for a moment. Then, he ushered me in and took Keith from me, putting him on the couch. He ran a hand through his hair and jogged to the bathroom, getting a first aid kit. He patched Keith up and put a pillow underneath his head, after which anxiously pacing the room. I sat on my knees in front of the couch, watching him. Then, he turned to me with narrowed eyes.

"You're Lance McClain?" He asked, his voice strained and worried. I frowned and nodded, looking at Keith with remorse.   
"Don't worry," I muttered, barely audible. "I already know. I'm not going to kill you two." I heard a soft sigh come from the other vampire, but I just kept watching Keith as he slept, his breathing, albeit a little raspy, even and methodical.

"Was this Lotor's doing?" The vampire asked. I turned and nodded, looking at their rug. Anything to avoid Keith's brother, who seemed overprotective at the very least.   
"Is he gonna be okay?" I asked, looking back up at Keith. 

"I hope so."

I turned and finally met the older man's gaze, giving him a small smile. He returned it, though with some reluctance. I looked away again, picking at my already chipped nail polish.  
"I killed him." I said.

"What?"

"I killed Lotor. At least I think so."

The room was silent once more, and I felt the tension in the room thicken- or loosen. I really couldn't tell the difference. He walked over to me and stood in front of where I sat. I stood up myself and looked him in the eye.   
"I'm Shiro." He stuck his hand out for me to shake. I did so, surprised at how normal he felt. He was a vampire, right? Wouldn't they be somewhat different from humans? "Thank you for saving my brother."

I nodded in return and Shiro stepped away, walking by me and pulling an afghan over his brother. He turned back to me and gave me a small, reserved smile. "It's getting late. You should stay here tonight. Besides, I'm sure Keith'll want to see you when he wakes up. He's really taken a liking to you, y'know."   
He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed himself an apple, taking a large bite out of it. I swallowed hard- his fangs were visible, and I couldn't be sure, but I had a feeling that he was doing this to intimidate me. I nodded vigorously and he walked away, into a hallway. He tossed a blanket and a pillow to me (not hostile at all, surprisingly) and told me that I could sleep wherever. I thanked him and bid him a good night as he left the room, turning out the light and leaving me alone with Keith for the night. I sat in one of the bigger chairs in the room, curling up on it and looking once again over to Keith. The moonlight hit his face perfectly from the window adjacent to the couch, and I could've sworn that he was an angel, not a vampire. I sighed and dismissed the thought, though, turning away and closing my eyes.

Keith was a vampire. Shiro was a vampire. I'd just killed my first 'top dog' vampire. It was a really eventful night. I fell asleep thinking about what I'd say to Keith that next morning, if he didn't have a concussion. I was pretty sure he had a concussion, though.

~~~ (Yo guys before you read this this is all from my experience with that one really bad concussion I got from lacrosse ok I even got fuckin neurogenic fever it was horrible so TW?For vomit and sickness?? I guess???)

My eyes fluttered open and I winced against my raging headache. Where was I? I looked around the dark room. Home? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is Lotor punching me... but that's it. How did I get home? Where was Shiro? And where was Lance? Was he okay? Everything felt so sluggish to me. Did I do something to help? I groaned lowly and sat up, gasping at the sudden pain and vertigo that wracked my system. I swung my legs over the couch and leaned on my knees, putting my head in my hands. It was like the world's worst hangover without the fun of alcohol. I looked over to the chair when I finally felt well enough to blink, seeing Lance occupying it, sleeping soundly curled up with an old blanket and pillow. I was so relieved. Was he okay, though? Was he hurt? I hope not. What happened to me?  
My stomach lurched and I stood unsteadily, dizzily making my way to the bathroom. I promptly vomited into the toilet bowl, not feeling completely sick but also feeling lightheaded and off.   
"Keith?" Lance's groggy voice echoed through the closed-in bathroom, making my head pound even harder. I groaned again and held my head. "Shhh," I shushed him quietly.   
"Are you okay, man?" His voice was considerably softer, and for that I was appreciative. He walked over to kneel right next to me right before I vomited again. This time, though, he held my hair behind my head and rubbed my back, whispering comfortingly.   
When I was done, he helped me to my room with my directions. I flopped onto my bed and hissed when he turned on the light. He turned it back off and sat at the foot of my bed, looking at me with concern.   
"What time's it?" I asked, my voice rough and slurred. I felt so weak then, so vulnerable. I could barely see straight and my vision seemed almost doubled. I felt dizzy, even lying on my bed. I wanted to vomit, but knew subconsciously that I had nothing left. I groaned internally, not fully knowing what had even happened to me.

"Around six."

"Shit," I attempted to sit up, but was thrown back by another wave of vertigo. "Shit, I'm- I'm gonna be late for school."

An incredulous grin spread across Lance's face and he chuckled quietly. "Dude, you think you're okay for school?"

"I," I grunted, trying once again to sit up straight. Again I failed, falling back to the pillow. "I'm fine." Why wouldn't I be?  
Lance scoffed and snickered.  
"No, you're not. You have a pretty bad concussion and apparently you're not allowed to go to hospitals, so you're staying home today, and Shiro put it on me to take care of you." A concussion? How did I get a concussion?

"Wha- You met Shiro?"  
He met Shiro? That meant that... did Lance know about me? About him? How'd he find out? Wait, how'd he find out about what? I was so confused. He must've seen my dazed glance because he sobered, giving me a genuine smile.  
"I know what you are. It's okay with me, dude. I was only sent here to kill hostiles, and though you're pretty hostile, you're not evil. You're safe." Hostiles? Hostile what? 

My fear (I don't remember why I was afraid) softened and I lied back onto my pillow, looking at my ceiling. "Are you going back to sleep?" Lance asked me.

"I dunno."

"You should."

"Mmm..."

I sighed and closed my eyes, rubbing my still-pounding head. Lance gave me a sympathetic smile and I met his gaze, returning it with my own forced half-sneer.   
"I feel disgusting." I said. I tried to sit up, hoping to at least change, but I began to see double and groaned. "I wanna shower and change." 

"That's a no to a shower," Lance said, raising an eyebrow. "But I can help you back to the bathroom to clean up."

I huffed in annoyance, though I knew subconsciously that showering wasn't a good idea. I nodded slowly, as to not aggravate my headache any further, then allowed Lance to help me up. We walked across the hall and I sat on the toilet seat while Lance got me pajamas to replace my own distressed black jeans and now-ripped t-shirt. I noticed blearily that he'd changed as well- Shiro probably gave him some older clothes from the basement, or something.   
He handed me the stack of clothing and left the bathroom, standing right in front of the door in case I needed anything. I was thankful for that lick of privacy, but I was still irked that Lance kept asking me if I was okay. I was fucking fine.

I brushed some water through my super-tangled hair, getting some of the dirt out. I got undressed and wiped off dirt and sweat and overall grime off my skin, feeling much more refreshed. I even swiped some of Shiro's face soap. I pulled on what Lance brought me- some soft sweatpants and an MCR t-shirt. I told Lance that I was done and he came in with a smile, helping me back to my room. 

I sat on the bed and pulled my hair into a messy knot, sighing as I felt the cool air conditioner on the back of my neck.   
"Do you feel better?" Lance asked softly. I glanced at him and hummed in affirmation. We sat like that for a while, and I found myself feeling rather helpless. In that moment, I wasn't a vampire. I was just a boy who had a crush, and I was sitting right near said crush.   
I may have been imagining it, but when I met Lance's eyes only a couple seconds after, I could've sworn I saw a blush on his cheeks and fondness in his eyes. Those pretty, pretty eyes of his. Arguably the best part about his appearance. 

Maybe it was the concussion not letting me think straight, or maybe it was because I'm incapable of thinking straight in the first place, but my head found it's way to Lance's shoulder, and there it stayed. He didn't say anything, thankfully, accommodating for the space between us by scooting a bit closer.   
I closed my eyes and smiled slightly, not protesting a bit when Lance pulled my head to his lap. He hummed some old song with soothing dips and curves and played with my hair, twisting it between his fingertips. I'd been lulled into half-sleep when he got a phone call, and I really didn't pay any mind to it. I may have heard my name brought up, but I couldn't be sure in this unusual realm that tied my dreams to reality. It felt good- Lance's hands in my hair and my head in his lap. It was serene and it was comforting.  
My headache ebbed as I fell asleep.

I woke up to another lurch in my stomach.   
I stumbled off Lance's lap and to the bathroom, falling on my knees in front of the toilet and retching my guts out. Lance quickly followed me, hissing worriedly when he saw traces of blood in my vomit. I wondered for a moment why a vampire would have the need to bleed at all, but that thought flew from my mind when I hurled again. This was just too much- I felt like complete shit.   
When I was finally finished, I sank into Lance, leaning on him for support.   
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. Even so, I winced against my headache. The lights were too bright. Everything was too loud. I needed silence, needed darkness. Most of all, though, I needed Lance.   
"Prob'ly not." I muttered, my thoughts cloudy and dull. I'd never had a concussion before, but if this was how it fucking felt, I never wanted to have one again. He frowned and checked my forehead, speaking in a worried, hasty manner.   
"You've got a fever. You need to go back to bed." 

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Com'on." 

I felt him help me up and put me on his back. He carried me back to bed and put me down. He turned off all the lights, which I was immensely grateful for, and gave me some water. I drank it, eyeing him leaving the room. I furrowed my eyebrows, putting the glass down.   
"Lance?" I spoke through unclear thoughts. Where was he going? What was he doing? Why wasn't he staying with me? "Where are you going?"

He turned back and raised an eyebrow. If I were completely lucid, I wouldn't have even let my next sentence leave my mouth. "Can't you stay with me?" I asked, knowing that my voice was too small, too vulnerable. Yet I couldn't change it.   
His lips parted a bit in surprise, then he smiled slightly. "Of course I can."   
He walked over and I moved aside to let him lay down. It was awkward a first, but I cut through the tension by wrapping my arms around his torso. He curled up and fit with me like a puzzle piece, and I curled up and nuzzled my face in his chest. He ran his hands through my hair again and I felt drowsiness take over, falling asleep almost instantaneously. 

I woke up again later when someone came into the room. The two spoke quietly, but this time I listened, even if it was only halfway.

"He's been vomiting since six this morning and he's got a fever. Are you sure we can't take him to a hospital? Neurogenic fever isn't something to mess around with, dude."

"I know this may sound callous, but he can take it. I've seen him go through worse. As long as we keep him out of a coma, he should be fine."

"That's good, I guess."

There was a silence. Then the other person spoke. It sounded familiar, that voice. It was like I knew them from somewhere. Was it Pidge? No. Lance? No, Lance was talking with the voice. 

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you get hurt from yesterday?"

"Just a couple cuts and scrapes. Lotor punched me too, so I've got a black eye, but other than that I seem to be fine."

"That's good."

I woke up a little more as I listened, getting a feel for the conversation. When it lulled again, I began to stir, opening my eyes blearily. I don't know what compelled me to do this, but I did and regretted it. The minute I opened my eyes, the confusion and cloudiness in my brain returned, making me feel worse than before. I groaned against a headache and buried my face farther into the darkness of Lance's shirt.

"Turn out the light." I barked, thought my voice lacked conviction. Despite this, the light was turned off and I sighed in relief. I pushed myself away from Lance and looked over at my brother.

"Shiro?" I mumbled, blinking confusedly. When'd he get there? He was the one talking with Lance? That's right.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro said softly, giving me a smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Like fucking shit." I grunted, laying back down and closing my eyes again. Despite sleeping for most of that morning, I felt super tired. Maybe it was because of the concussion. I heard Shiro chuckle, though most of what the two said next sounded like it was coming from underwater. 

"I see he still retains his ability to swear about as much as a sailor?"

"You have no idea." Lance said, laughing with Shiro. Lance's laugh resonated through his chest and made me more comfortable, if that was even possible. The deep, chesty sound grounded me. I wanted him to laugh more, whether or not I could feel it.  
Shiro and Lance whispered back and forth after that, but I ignored the rest of the conversation, instead going back to sleep. 

~~~

"I see he still retains his ability to swear about as much as a sailor?" Shiro said to me, chuckling. I smiled to, returning the slight laugh.

"You have no idea."   
Keith settled back down next to me, closing his eyes and falling back asleep. I wondered what could be rattling around that concussed head of his, but decided not to dwell on it, watching as his eyelids fluttered through dreams.

"You really do like him, don't you?" Shiro asked, his eyes full of concern. I looked at him, then looked down sheepishly. It wouldn't do any good to lie, but telling the truth seemed so daunting. Shiro was intimidating, and I couldn't predict what he'd do or say. Nevertheless, I found the truth escaping my mouth.  
"Yeah."

"And what would your parents say?"

I forced a disdainful chortle from my lips and looked back to Keith, brushing a piece of his bangs from his face. "They'd probably disown me."

Shiro hummed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "What do you want to do?"

I looked over to him again, my gaze exasperated and desperate. "I have no idea anymore. I like Keith a lot, but I can't just throw away what I was raised to be. I just defeated Lotor, for pete's sake! And now I'm associating with vampires- the thing I was trained to kill!"

"I can understand where you're coming from, but if you really like Keith then you're going to either have to make everything work or make none of it work. If you go hunting for vampires and make an exception for Keith, people who follow what you guys do are going to be suspicious. They're going to immediately make the assumption that you've gone soft and that you're sparing the life of someone who you should be killing."

I averted my gaze, shifting so that I sat lower on the pillows. I looked back down at Keith, frowning. What was I going to do? Well, nothing yet, because I didn't even know if he liked me back. Even so, I couldn't be friends with him, nevertheless boyfriends, if I kept killing in the way that I did. I killed every vampire that I layed my hands on, but then I met Keith and Shiro. These vampires... no, these people completely changed my view on the matter. I had no idea who I even was anymore. Was I a vampire killer? Was I a tool? Was I just a boy with a knife, sent to play around with monsters until I got rid of my naivety? I had no idea.  
"I don't know what to do." I murmured, my eyes tracing the pale porcelain of Keith's face. Absolutely stunning. 

"Then you need to figure this out. But I don't think anyone can help you. You need to think about this and come to a conclusion for yourself- don't think about Keith, don't think about your family, don't think about me or expectations- just think about who you are and what you aspire to be."

Shiro stood and smiled at me. Unlike the first time we met just a day prior, this smile was genuine and warm. He stuck out his hand and he shook my own, a gesture of acceptance. I returned it, giving him a smile back. Without another word, he left the room, leaving Keith and I alone.   
I slid down more onto the bed and looked at the ceiling above. I sighed and turned on my side, holding Keith a little closer. I liked him. A lot. And I thought I knew what I was going to do.  
I was going to do my very best to uphold my family name while also having Keith in my life. 

\---

I woke up again, fully, later the next day. I felt groggy and my head hurt, but I felt better than I had before. I sat up, noticing that I was alone in bed. I thought I remembered Lance there, but I might have been mistaken. Yeah- why would he stay here? With me, a vampire- oh. That's right.

He knew I was a vampire. What would he say? I put the hazy memories that I'd barely retained in the back of my mind, dismissing them as fever-dreams. I focused on the problem at hand- Lance knew. He knew and would hate me because he kills things like me. I frowned and stood, wobbling just a little at first. I was kind of dizzy still but knew then that I'd be fine in a day or two. The main perk of being a vampire is that my wounds healed pretty quickly compared to that of a normal human's. I stumbled to the door and grabbed onto the frame, pushing myself into the hallway and into the bathroom. It was pretty hard to walk around, seeing as I was just then starting to recover, but found myself craving the exercise. I splashed water in my face and looked at myself, grimacing. I looked gross- greasy, unwashed hair, too-pale skin and dark bags underneath my still-sorta-cloudy eyes. I sighed and pulled my hair into another knot. I walked out of the bathroom, using the wall as support, and made my way to the kitchen where I smelled food being cooked. 

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Over-easy, thanks."

Who was Shiro talking with? That voice was familiar, but I couldn't seem to pinpoint it. It sounded like Lance, but... why would Lance be here? In a vampire's home? If it was, I would be amazed that I wasn't dead yet. And as I shuffled into the kitchen doorway, I was met with Lance's smile and those eyes, full of surprise and happiness.   
"Hey, Keith! How're you feeling?"

I just stared back at him, my brows furrowed. I looked up at Shiro, who was looking back at me expectantly. Why was he looking at me like that? Why was Lance even here? I bit my lip, fear suddenly taking hold of my body. Why was he here? Why was he talking to Shiro? Why was he talking to me? I swallowed hard and looked back to Shiro. He noticed the fright in my eyes and grimaced.  
Lance looked between me and Shiro for a moment. "What's going on?" He asked. Shiro gave him a glance and I turned my own gaze to Lance, expecting him at any time to leap up and kill me like he had Lotor- that's right! He killed Lotor! That must mean... that's why I was so scared! He was a vampire hunter.   
My fear intensified tenfold. Lance turned his gaze to me and I could've sworn I saw the urge to kill, but really all I saw was confusion. He raised an eyebrow at my fearful behavior, then stood. I tensed up, ready to fight, but he stared walking over to me and I yelped, stumbling back and falling on my ass. He stood in the doorway, as I had, but he looked down upon me with an even greater confusion.   
"Keith? Are you okay?" He asked. Malice. There was malice in his tone- there had to be. He wanted to kill me, right? He had to want to, right? He was a vampire hunter! He had to kill me, right? That was his job! "What's wrong?" He took a couple steps towards me and I scrambled away, my back hitting the couch and therefore stopping my escape. I whined and curled up, hiding my head in my knees. Anything to make myself smaller, anything to make myself less visible. 

I felt his hand on my shoulder and I flinched hard, throwing it off and falling to the side. Leaning on my elbow and panting, I looked up at Lance. "Keith? Do you need to go back to bed? Do you need help?" 

"G-Get away from me!" I stuttered. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my cheek. I was shaking, and I could barely support my body weight with my elbow. I was still a little disoriented, too much so to realize that Lance was just trying to help but enough to realize who he was- A vampire hunter. I raised my free hand up so I could protect my head. Defense was my only option. 

"What?"

"D-Don't kill me l-like you d-did Lotor..." I pleaded. "Please."

There was silence for a moment, then Lance kneeled in front of me. I flinched away again, but this time he grabbed my wrist. I gasped and tried to pull away. He was going to kill me. He was going to kill me. He was going to kill me.   
"Why would I kill you?" His voice was soft, and I almost believed that he wasn't getting ready to stab a stake through my chest.

"Get away!" I yelled. I thrashed in his grip, but he held fast. It made me wonder for a moment how much energy this concussion took out of me. "Please, please don't kill me."

"Keith," He began, still holding tightly to my wrist. "Keith, stop, you're gonna hurt yourself."  
I pulled until I was too weak to anymore, then as I yanked tiredly, he pulled me into a hug.  
At first, I thought he was going to kill me then, as I was in his arms and helpless. I did anything I could to get away, other than biting him. I pushed myself away, I punched him feebly. 

"Why would I kill you?" He said, softly, into my shoulder. I was still aware of Shiro watching us nervously from the kitchen, but it didn't really register. "I'd never kill you."

"P-Please," I felt a tear roll down my cheek and I whined again, grabbing his jacket in bunches and burying my face in his own shoulder. "P-Please go away."

"No."

I choked on a sob, pushing myself away and sitting on my knees. I think he knew that I wasn't going to fight him anymore, so he let go of my wrist and just watched me from his spot near the couch. I wiped away tears and tried to will myself to stop crying. It didn't really work, as the tears just kept on coming. "I don't wanna die..." I mumbled. 

"I won't let that happen." Lance said. He took my hand and held it in his own. I looked up at him and bit my lip again. He scared me. He was a vampire hunter. He should've scared me more. I should be running for the hills right now, but my legs stay under me on this floor. I should be screaming, yelling for help, but my voice seems to be taken. He smiled at me, softly, and I almost had a heart attack, even though it didn't beat. He scared me, yes, but it seemed like that was a good thing.

He helped me up and caught me when I almost fell. "Let's eat breakfast." He said. He handed me a piece of toast and I ate it silently. Shiro had left, probably to go work in our office, so it was relatively silent in the kitchen, lest for my munching and the squeaking from forks on plates.  
"How are you feeling?" He asked. I noticed his voice was quieter than usual, and I looked away. I began to feel my fear ebb as we ate and I was thankful for that. 

"Better. My head still hurts and I'm a little dizzy and foggy, but other than that I'm okay."

"That's good."  
The room was in relative silence once again. "Do you think you're up for school?"

"Of cou-"

"Tell me the truth, Keith." The sternness in his voice scared me a little bit and I looked at him. His face was set, though his eyes held concern. I sighed.  
"I don't think so."

"Okay. I'll stay home with you today, since you're not so out of it."

"Okay."

We finished eating in that silence and he waited until I was done. I still felt somewhat nauseous, so eating wasn't too easy for me. I knew that I had barely eaten in the past couple days, though, so I choked it down as best I could. Lance then helped me over to the couch, where he brought me a glass of water and a blanket. He sat down with me and handed me the blanket. He sat on the other side, and I suddenly felt bad. Was this my fault? Yes, of course it was. I was the one who told him to go away, anyway. I frowned and looked away. He turned the TV on to a horror movie. 

We sat in relative silence for a spell, the air thick with the tension of unspoken words and the anticipation of jump-scares. I sighed inwardly and lay my still-aching head on the back of the couch. I stared up at the ceiling, aware of the small, concerned glances I was getting from Lance. Why was he feeling bad for me? I rubbed my face anxiously and turned back to the TV. Thankfully, the room was dark enough for me to have my eyes open fully without bursts of pain shooting through my head, but the sharp lights of the movie still made my brain hurt. I eventually couldn't take it anymore and closed my eyes, falling into a light doze. 

~~~

Keith's eyes... those eyes looked so scared. He stood in the entryway to the kitchen, looking at me with terror in his eyes. I was confused for a moment. Why was he staring at me like that? Why wouldn't he respond to my question? I watched as those eyes lifted from me to Shiro. I turned mine to Shiro as well, only to see that he was looking right back at Keith.   
"What's going on?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Keith looked back at me with eyes so, so full of fear that it almost made me afraid. What was he afraid of- me? Was he afraid of me? Why, if so? I stood to walk over to him and as my chair scooted back, he tensed and leaned forward a bit, as if getting ready to fight. I frowned. Why was he standing like that? I walked over to him and he yelped, stumbling back and falling. I looked down on him with confusion, and he looked up at me, those eyes scared beyond belief. 

And then, a little over half an hour later, I sat on one side of his couch while he dozed on the other side, seemingly unfazed by the horror movie. Or maybe he'd seen worse- I know I had. I watched him as his eyes fluttered in half-sleep, as his breathing was deep and methodical as if he were actually sleeping, though I knew for a fact that he wasn't. I think he just wanted to escape the looming tension and the pain in his head, though I couldn't be sure. What I could be sure of, however, was that I felt bad. I don't know why I felt bad- maybe it was because I was the very thing that killed off a lot of his species. Maybe it was because I didn't tell him sooner. I don't know. I knew he felt bad, though- maybe for yelling at me, maybe for overreacting -and I could see it in the way that he averted his eyes whenever I would turn my gaze to his. 

The air was thick with anxiety, and it got to a point where I couldn't even focus on the movie anymore. It got to a point where I just wanted to leave. But I knew I couldn't. I either had to fix this, or be there until he worked up the nerve to do it himself. And we both knew that wasn't going to happen- he had way too much pride.   
"Hey, Keith?" I muttered, almost under my breath. He opened his eyes and glanced over at me. I silenced the TV and looked away, thinking of what to say. 

"I'm sorry."

I looked up. Keith apologized? That was Keith. His eyes were away from me, his face a slight shade of pink. He threw his pride away just like that?  
"What?" I knew what he'd said, but my ears kept telling me that I was wrong.

"I'm sorry," He said. "I'm sorry for yelling at you to leave and then making you stay. I'm sorry for not telling you that I was a vampire. I'm sorry for getting into your fight with Lotor and forcing you to take care of me for these past few days. I'm sorry for... well, everything. If you want to leave and never look back, I wouldn't blame you."

He didn't meet my eyes as he said this, and I frowned. I looked down at my hands. "I... Do you want me to go?" I asked. I looked back at him and he still didn't meet my gaze. He didn't say anything either. "Keith-"

"No!" He barked hoarsely, cutting me off. "No... No, I don't want you to leave."

"Then what do you want?"

There was a pause; a lull in the conversation. I saw the conflict in his eyes, broiling in those slate irises of his. "I don't know. I... I want you to be happy. I'm sorry for causing you such pain, Lance."

I didn't know what to say. I had no idea. I just gaped. I didn't know what to say. So instead of saying nothing, I did something. I scooted across the couch and let him lean on my shoulder, like he had just a couple days before. He handed me the blanket and we cuddled up in the crook of the couch, turning the sound back onto the movie and staying like that, in our wordless little nook, a bundle of blankets and sorrow.   
Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed my chin and kissed me harshly. I gasped against his rough, chapped lips, feeling his calloused hands on my cheeks. Was this... okay? I decided it was when he stuck his tongue in my mouth. In that moment, I began to kiss back, running my hands through my hair and closing my eyes. The kiss lulled, becoming more methodical and passionate by the second. I faintly heard a woman scream in the movie on the TV, but I paid it little mind. Keith broke the kiss to get some air and looked up at me with tentative eyes, but I was star-struck.   
"Keith?" I mumbled, looking at him in awe. He blushed deeply and looked away, back to the TV. "No, we're not playing this game again. Not right now." I said, turning the TV off and commanding his gaze to me. Sunlight shone from under the drawn blinders, hitting Keith's cheek and only slightly lighting up the room.   
He sighed and looked at me.

"What was that?" I asked, more in curiosity than anger, or anything else. "Why'd you kiss me?"

"Because I like you. Simple as that." He mumbled back, looking away again. It was silent for a moment, then I broke out into laughter. He looked at me in confusion.   
"Why are you laughing?" He asked. "Did I say something wrong?"

Everything was so bubbly. Everything felt carbonated, like I could float right now and hit my head on the ceiling. All my negative emotions just disappeared. I laughed even harder and grinned at Keith. His face turned that same pink as before and I grinned wider. "I like you too, vampire boy." I said, sobering. His eyes widened and he gave me a slight smile. I took that as an 'OK' and went in for another kiss, feeling his grin against my lips and giggling. 

Lotor was dead (I hoped), Keith and I were (more than) okay. Everything seemed okay in those moments, and I wondered if every day would be like this. I truly hoped it would, and as Keith and I laughed and cuddled on the couch, I disregarded all of my inhibitions about him being a vampire and about my family. If they didn't like me because of this, that was fine. I would make them love me again. If they didn't like Keith, that was fine. I would make them love him too. Everything would be completely fine- no, not fine. Everything would be great.


	3. Grilled Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets sad and Lance cheers him up

Lance trudged through the snow, looking around for what Pidge described. He shivered and pulled his coat further over his body, holding tightly to the other, significantly lighter one that he'd brought along for Keith, whom he was looking for. Keith had run out of Shiro's house after Hunk asked him what they all assumed was a bad question for the 'truth' part of truth or dare. Well, Keith didn't really 'run' out of the house, but he walked out without a jacket, unresponsive to Shiro's calls. It really was surprising that Keith was that calm. He'd leave normally when he got mad, but today, when Hunk asked that question, his smile fell for a moment, then it returned and he told us that he needed some air. The door had fallen shut and they all just looked at each other in bewilderment. It was weird. Keith was acting weird. And while that was normal, it was abnormal, the way he was acting. So... calm. 

It was late on a Friday night, or early Saturday, and they'd all gathered at Shiro's house for a sleepover. It seemed fun, and everyone seemed excited to get on with it through the week. They watched movies, ate pizza, and decided to top off the night by playing a game of truth or dare. That's when things went wrong.

"What did you even say?" Lance asked Hunk after Keith left. Hunk shrugged nervously. 

"I just asked him why he never talks about family is all. He seems to spend a lot of time here, so I was wondering why he doesn't ever invite us over to his house or to meet his family."

Shiro sighed and rubbed his temple, sitting down with them again. "Hunk, why'd you have to go and do that?"

Hunk looked at Shiro indignantly. "Do what? I didn't do anything!"

Shiro looked up with a half-glare. "You do realize that Keith's an orphan, right?"

The room went silent. Hunk's mouth formed a small 'o' in realization. It all added up. The aloofness, the distance, the constant moodiness. The anger, the fury; it all added up. Lance stood and grabbed his coat, putting on his shoes at the door. Shiro looked up.

"Where are you going?" He asked as Lance took another jacket. 

"It's below freezing out there, Shiro," Lance said. He opened the door and took a step out, looking back at the older guy. "He left without a coat. He'll die if I don't bring him one. So I'm going after him."

Shiro's face softened. "Good luck. Be careful." Lance could've sworn he heard Allura mutter that it was a stretch to say that Keith would die, and Lance knew he could be dramatic at times, but for him, in that moment it was a very real concern that Keith could die in the cold without a jacket.

Lance nodded back and began to leave.   
"Wait!"   
He turned when he heard the loud voice of Pidge behind him. She walked up and pulled out her phone, typing something in.   
"If I know Keith, this is where he'll be. He's got smokes in there, and his cat likes to sleep in there sometimes. He goes there when he needs a break from humanity."

Lance smiled at her and thanked her, leaving the house, and this is where our story left off- Lance trudging through the sludgy snow, holding onto a jacket that Keith should've been wearing.

He walked through the woods, running his fingertips across trees, noticing the slash marks in some of them. Keith was this way. Definitely. He walked a little further, coming upon a tree that stood a little taller than the other ones, and a small house atop its branches. A soft contained glow came from one of its windows and its nonexistent door, wisps of smoke dancing in the night air. Keith. Keith was in there- Pidge was right.

Lance walked up to the tree, biting his lip. He felt like he was intruding on something, somehow. Keith coughed, then quieted once more. He decided that maybe intruding was better than waiting for them both to freeze over, so he made a cup around his mouth with his hand.

"Hey, astrodick!" He heard a near-suppressed groan of annoyance through the rotting wood of the treehouse.   
"What do you want now, Lance?" Keith's quiet voice filled the almost silent woods. 

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk."

"Well, I don't. So you can leave."

"Nope."

"Leave, Lance."

"Nope."

Keith sighed in frustration. "Please?"

"Nope."

Keith groaned again and quieted. Lance heard him take a long drag of the cigarette, exhaling with a couple coughs. Lance frowned and sighed, walking over and leaning on the tree.   
"Are you okay?" Lance asked. He could practically touch the tense silence that fell over the two then. He could hear Keith swallowing hard.

"I... I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

Keith growled slightly, barely audible.   
"Can I at least come up there?" Lance asked, furrowing his brows in concern.

"In your dreams," Keith grumbled back. Lance pouted and stood straight off the tree, walking around it to see if there was any way to get up. He didn't care what Keith said- even if only to bring the jacket for his friend, he was going to get up there. Fortunately, he spotted an old rope ladder hanging from the far side of the treehouse. Lance slung the jacket over his shoulder and climbed it easily, getting into the house without a hitch. 

Keith looked over and gave him a scowl, saying nothing. He huffed and turned away, blowing out another puff of smoke. Lance noticed that the box that Keith'd probably had was almost finished, most of the butts from it lying around on the ground. He walked over and sat next to Keith where he leaned on the wall. He sat just about arm's length away, just in case Keith wanted to punch him, as the sophomore almost always wanted to do.   
"Keith, I know you're upset-"

"Don't bother."

"What?"

Keith huffed again, this time the faintest hint of smoke dancing from his lips, and looked at Lance with a defeated gaze. "Don't bother helping me. It's not gonna change anything. At the end of the day, my parents are still gonna be dead, Randy and Lotor are still gonna beat the shit outta me all the time, and I'm still gonna feel like shit. Talking won't change anything."

"Randy... your stepdad? And your boyfriend, Lotor? Keith, I-"

"I told you," He spat. "don't fucking try."

Lance shut up real quick after that. He looked away, sitting cross-legged. The silence was suffocating, to say the least. Lance wondered if that was how Keith felt when he smoked- suffocated. He turned his eyes back to Keith for a moment, seeing that same stoic face on that same small frame. He shivered, taking one last drag of his cig before stomping it out and grabbing another. Lance tisked and grabbed it from Keith, taking the box as well. "No more smokes tonight, Keith. You're gonna kill yourself even faster."

Keith grumbled annoyedly for a moment, then shivered again, looking down with a grimace. "Maybe I want to."

The air left Lance's lungs for a moment as he gazed at Keith. Keith wrapped his arms around himself and looked away. "This world hasn't ever given me something to live for, y'know? Not my mom, my dad. I love you guys and all, but it's not like you won't move on. You'll move on and forget about me and I'll have been nothing but a story," He said. Lance gaped. 

"Keith-"

"Stop! I don't need your pity."

"Keith-"

"Get out, you-- you--!"

"Keith! I-"

"Leave, dumbass!"

"Keith, shut the fuck up!"

Keith did so, looking at Lance with slight fear. Lance was rarely, if ever, that loud, and if he was it usually meant he was pissed. But when he looked into the other boy's eyes, all Keith could see was concern and worry. For... him? Why? He looked away again, feeling Lance's stare boring into the side of his head. 

"I'm... I'm sorry, Lance," Keith said. "I-I'm just... aggravated, is all. I didn't mean to say all that. I didn't mean it-- any of it. I just... I just want to be left alone right now."

"Keith..."

"Please?" There was a vulnerability in his tone, something that, even in Keith's darkest days, Lance had never heard. He heard the exhaustion, the grief, the pain. It plagued Keith's voice and seeped into his eyes, his gaze. It made Lance's kind heart ache with sympathy.

"Well, if you think that I'm leaving, then you'd be wrong."

Keith sighed. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. He knew that Lance wasn't going anywhere. It was... it was worth a try, wasn't it? If he even wanted Lance to leave, that is. Keith didn't know what he'd have done to himself if Lance hadn't come when he did. Maybe he would've burnt himself with the smoldering cigarette butts. Maybe he would've jumped out of the treehouse to see how much he'd get hurt. Maybe he would gather the rope ladder and untie it, then climb to the top of the tree the house sat on, tying the rope into something more sinister, then wrap it around his neck and watch the stars as they faded out of his vision, into that inky blackness that he had come to welcome. Or maybe he wouldn't have. He was too much of a coward to do it anytime else; why would he have the courage to do it now? Maybe it wasn't cowardice, more so the lingering feeling that there may have been something to live for- out there but undiscovered, like he would be had he hanged himself on that tree. Or maybe not. 

"Lance, if I ask you to do something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" Keith asked after a long moment of silence, that same vulnerability hanging in his voice. He brought his head from his arms and peered at Lance with sad eyes. Lance raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded. Keith acknowledged the nod with another small sigh. He hesitated for a moment, sitting up a bit straighter and fiddling at the rips in his jeans.  
"Give me something to live for," He mumbled, "please. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Lance's mouth was agape for a minute. Keith noticed this and looked away. "I'm sorry," he said. "That wasn't fair of me to ask of you. Forget it-"

"Grilled cheese." 

Keith blinked. He looked back at Lance, who gave him a small smile. "What?"

"Grilled cheese, untouched snow, rain, sunlight hitting your face on a cold morning, sleeping on freshly washed sheets, the moon, finally coming up with a username that wasn't taken, blue skies, pink skies, black skies, the swings at that old park down the road, warm cookies, shaved ice, wearing your favorite pair of jeans, and the sound of waves, lapping at the shore on a warm night."

"What?"

"I'm giving you things to live for. They may not be much overall, but they're small pleasures that most of us forget to take into account. For example, perfectly made grilled cheese."

Keith gaped for a moment, then he broke out into a grin. He put his hand to his face and laughed. "How? How can you be so perfect? You're kind and sweet and you always know what to say. It's... you're weird!" Keith's laughter then turned into something of a tittering sob, tears rolling down his cheeks. "How?"

"I've never needed a reason to live because I already knew that there wasn't a reason to die. Nothing is worth killing yourself over, Keith. You have people that love you and everything will turn out. That is if you trust us at all to help you." Keith looked up, those fat tears escaping his eyes.   
"I-I..."

"I'll leave now, if you want. I'm sure you need some space. But before I go," Lance stood, Keith's bewildered stare following him. He tossed the jacket over to Keith, who shakily caught it and looked at Lance, who gave him a solemn smile, with confusion. "don't catch a cold."

Lance walked to the open door of the treehouse and was about to step down onto the rope ladder when he felt arms wrapping around his torso. It was tentative and anxious, that hug. Lance backed away from the door a bit, turning around and hugging Keith back.   
"I'm sorry," Keith whispered into Lance's shoulder. Lance felt hot tears staining the dryness of the jacket and he held Keith tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Lance muttered back, but he knew Keith wasn't listening. Keith was in his own little world, sobbing into Lance's shoulder and clenching his fists into his back. After a minute, he pushed Keith off of him but kept his hands on his shoulders. Keith looked down and sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes.  
"I'm sorry for that," Keith mumbled, a hiccuping sob escaping his throat. "I-I just-"

"Keith- shut the fuck up and listen to me."

Keith cringed at Lance's words, though they didn't sound angry or malicious in any way. He looked up at Lance, eyes wide. Lance pulled Keith into another hug that he this time didn't reciprocate. "Keith," Lance murmured, leaning his head on Keith's shoulder. "I need you to know that you're worth more than you know. Nobody can tell me or anyone else that loves you otherwise. Because we all do, Keith. We all love you. And you need to be able to come to us when you need help."

Keith's breath hitched and he shakily reached up and once again wrapped his arms around the other teen. Lance held him gently, yet firmly, and his hands were warmer than any of Keith's cigs. Keith sighed and leaned a little further into Lance. "I'm so tired, Lance... I'm just... I'm just tired."

"Then rest. I've got you."

Keith choked out a laugh through his tears. "It's not that kind of tired, La-"

"I know. Do whatever you need to do right now, and I'll be here for you. Cry, if you want. Scream, if you want. Smoke more if you want, for Pete's sake. Just... don't hurt yourself."

Keith inhaled the chilled air, then exhaled. "Okay."

They moved to sit where Keith was previously, and Keith took out a cig. Lance eyed his motions warily as Keith put it to his mouth, hesitated, then took it back out. Keith sighed and put it back into the box, shivering. Lance picked the jacket up off the ground and put it around Keith's shoulders. The other looked up and gave him a small smile, tugging the jacket further around his body.   
There was a tense yet calming silence. Lance stole glimpses of Keith, who stared off into space. He wondered what the smaller of the two was thinking about in that moment, as he couldn't begin to guess what. Keith looked at him with sad eyes and smiled, scooting over to Lance. He rested his head on Lance's shoulder, and Lance was rightfully surprised. Nevertheless, he accommodated for the last bit of space between the two.  
"Hey, Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you here? Y'know, being nice to me and stuff?"

Lance thought for a moment. "I don't know."

"Oh. Okay."

The silence fell again. After a while of the two sitting together, Lance heard Keith's breathing even out. He hummed to himself in thought. "Maybe it's because..." He looked down, over to the now asleep teen. "Maybe it's because I like you. Yeah, I think that's it," He whispered to the empty quiet. "Yeah."


	4. Of Elvish Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little short, but a fantasy AU bc I'm weak for elvish Keith

In that one fleeting moment, he could hear nothing but the ragged breathing of his savior. The light of explosions carried on, but he was shadowed by the figure standing before him. His eyes widened. Keith?  
Lance's heart thumped out of his chest. Keith stood in front of him, his arms splayed out in a protective manner. His robes were ripped and torn, the wind blowing them to the south. His broken staff lay discarded on the ground. His hands, small and covered all over in tiny white scars, trembled. Lance grimaced. Here stood a man that had been fighting all his life. So young, yet never able to experience innocence. Never allowed a mother's loving touch; deprived of a father's helping hand, both of which Lance had found that he had beentaking advantage of. No, all Keith had witnessed was war. This everlasting, horrible, painfully beautiful war. Lance found that Keith was like that war- beautifully painful. His fingers, slender and short, were made to hold a staff that so carefully and brutally delivered blow after blow. His ears, pointed at the tips in a show of his true Elven heritage, were adorned with earrings as spoils of war. He was lean- too skinny if you were to ask Lance, but he had put on so much muscle that you wouldn't even be able to noticed at first glance. There were scars all over his body, not just his hands. It was absolutely horrifying; yes, horrifying, but haunting in a lovely, risky way of putting it. Lance remembered once Keith had taken off his shirt- for Lance to help clean a wound he had gotten while training- and there, right next to other, smaller scratches that Lance had already known about, was this long scar running down the length of his back. Where he got it, Lance wasn't sure. But he had given Lance this look, and he knew never to talk about it again. That look- Keith's eyes had the potential to be so warm, so happy, and yet they weren't. His body had the potential to be so lax, so carefree, and yet it wasn't. His mouth had the potential to smile, yet it didn't. Here stood a man, in front of and protecting Lance, that had the potential to leave this dismal battlefield, to run away. To be happy for once in his life. And yet he didn't. All he did was fight, and all he was doing that day was protect Lance. Lance gaped at Keith, who still stood in front of him. The air smelled sweetly of rotting flesh and blood, making the hair on Lance's arm stand. Surely the rest of their squadron could smell it too, right? Then he remembered- their squadron had been evacuated when the elf-king had arrived. Keith and Lance were left behind. They were the only ones left.

Keith was protecting him. Lance's eyes grew wide. Was Keith's mana not enough for them both to get away? Was Keith hurt? What was happening? The entire battlefield ceased fire as Keith's entire body shook from exertion. Keith had just taken forty-five shots of pure energy to keep Lance safe. And while he was a strong man and an even stronger warlock, Lance didn't know if anyone, let alone Keith, was able to withstand such might; such raw power.

Keith's hands dropped and he slouched, dropping to his knees on the ground. "Keith!" Lance yelled. He scrambled over, catching Keith in his arms as he fell forward. Keith looked up at Lance through dull, half-lidded eyes. Keith brought a weak hand to touch Lance's face, as if to see if he was real or not. He smiled and caressed Lance's cheek. Lance's tears dripped onto Keith's nose, sliding down and off Keith's face. "Don't cry," Keith mumbled. "I never know what to do with myself when you cry." Keith's eyes, slate and shining, were normally steely and hard; in that moment, the steel melted into molten happiness. God, Lance loved Keith so much. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Keith's eyes slowly slid closed and his hand fell limply from Lance's face. Lance yelped and put Keith on the ground, immediately trying some water healing magic he had learned at the academy. Most of Keith's cuts and bruises mended themselves, but the problem still remained that Keith used up too much mana. "Please don't die, please don't die..."

Lance heard footsteps approaching them and he looked up, praying to god that it was someone who could help. Of course, it wasn't- Lotor stood above them both, sneering down at them smugly. Lance put his arms around Keith once more, pulling him to his chest. Keith had protected him, so now it was his turn to return the favor.

"Have you had enough," Lotor said, smirking maliciously. "you human scum?"

Lance felt a cut that he'd gotten from biting his lip too hard bleed. He sucked it for a second, then spat the blood onto Lotor's shiny black boot. Lotor raised his eyebrows. "Still looking for a fight, are you?" He asked with a smile. Lance growled up at him, tightening his grip on Keith. Lotor's smile vaguely reminded him of Keith's- the two were half-brothers, though Keith was shipped out of the Elven castle and left to fend for himself while Lotor was pampered and praised for most everything he did. Keith was sent away, eventually being picked up by Shiro, who taught him to fight and included him in the war against his own people. Lotor and Keith were similar in ways that Lance couldn't begin to explain- that raging personality, that smile. It scared Lance to know that Keith was the very thing that they were risking their lives to fight, but it also soothed him to know that Keith was on their side.

Lotor kneeled in front of him, making Lance completely freeze up. He leaned in, getting close- too close- to Lance's ear. "I'll see you later, mouse," He whispered. "It's not fun when there are only two of you for me to bat at." Lance heard the snap of fingers and suddenly he and Keith were sitting on the pavement in front of the school. Up ahead, he saw several students, three of which their squadron members, walking down the sidewalk. He gasped and yelled out, alerting them to his existence. The last thing he saw was his friends running towards him before he passed out.

Lance awoke to the sound hushed voices by his side. He groaned softly and sat up, looking around. Pidge sat to his left, playing on her phone while Shiro and Hunk sat on his right side, talking to each other. Behind them was a curtain that was meant to give the other patient some privacy. He wondered who that patient was. When the others saw that Lance had awoken, they grinned and helped him sit up in his bed.

"Hey, Lance! How are you feeling?" Hunk asked, handing him a cup of water from the nightstand next to his bed.

Lance shrugged and gave Hunk a weak grin. "As good as I can feel, I guess." Hunk returned the grin, then frowned. Lance raised an eyebrow. "What?" He asked, confused.

Hunk looked away from Lance, instead looking to his hands, where he fiddled with one of his claws. "It's... It's Keith." He muttered. Lance's eyes widened and a nervous grin spread along his face.

"Heh- What about him?" He asked, trying to be nonchalant. Hunk swallowed hard and looked at the pale yellow curtain behind him. Lance quickly got out of bed and yanked the curtain open, immediately regretting it. Keith was lying there, hooked up to all different types of tubes and junk. He had a breathing mask on and was being given IV fluids. His skin was too pale and his face was red with a feverish flush. "...Keith," Lance murmured, tears welling up and spilling from his eyes. "What have you done to yourself?"

\----

'What... happened? Keith awoke to a black abyss, looking around. He saw nothing but darkness, surrounding him and eating every semblance of light that may have been left behind from happier memories. He blinked, then blinked again. What happened? Where was he? What was this place? He swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. "Hello there." Keith turned, seeing nothing. The voice tsked at him with an egotistical superiority that made it seem over-confident in nature. Keith narrowed his eyes. The voice... It sounded familiar. It sounded like someone he knew. Was it? No, it couldn't be.

"Now you're getting it, Samurai." Keith whipped his head around to see Lance, behind him. It was Lance, yes, but at the same time it was anything but. Everything was the same- the skin, the hair, the clothes. But those eyes and that smile; it wasn't Lance.

"Oh, but sweetie- it is!" Lance cooed, circling Keith threateningly. Keith made a grab for his dagger, but found that it wasn't on his hip. He looked down, then looked back up in a panic. Lance twirled his dagger between his fingers, watching Keith with a grin. "You just can't handle who I really am, can you?" Keith gritted his teeth and lowered himself into an attack position. Lance just chuckled and turned his inhuman gaze to the blade, where he looked at himself in the reflection.

"Beautiful, aren't I?" Lance half-whispered. He laughed and put the tip of the knife to his tongue, evoking a smidge of blood. He then licked the length of the knife, smearing his blood along the blade.

"The single most beautiful person I've ever met." Keith said warily. It was a mantra- in his head and on the tips of his taste-buds. That was what Keith told Lance when he was feeling down about himself. Saying that just seemed right, somehow. But, of course, it was in the worst way. Lance sneered, then disappeared. Keith stood up straight and looked around in fear. He froze when he felt the cold blade of his dagger against his neck.

"Now, now. Don't be afraid of me, kitten." Lance cooed once more. He laughed, an awful, echoing cackle that seemed to surround Keith just as much as the darkness they were in. The blade was pressed harder onto the soft part of his throat, drawing beads of blood to the surface of his skin. The blood dripped down his neck slowly, gathering in his collarbones and spilling over once they got full. Lance laughed again, making Keith flinch at the sound. The dagger was removed from his neck, making him fall to his knees, holding his throat protectively. He turned furiously to where Lance licked the blood off the blade.

"Who..." Keith began, attempting to stand. "Who are you?"

Lance smirked, then put on a realistic facade of the real Lance's pretty, lop-sided smile. "The name's Lance." '

Keith awoke with a gasp sitting up and looking around. He pulled the mask off his mouth and looked at it with confusion. He couldn't tell if this was real life or another dream, but he ran a hand through his hair tiredly anyway. Where was he? He looked around for real, trying to discern where exactly he was. The monotone beeping of a heart monitor told him that he was in a hospital, so he sat back against his pillows with a sigh. Everything came rushing back at once, though it didn't faze him in the slightest. So he'd used up all of his mana, huh. At least it was because he was protecting Lance. He heard soft snoring coming from next to him and he looked down, to his right. Lance was settled, his head in his arms, sleeping next to Keith. Keith smiled fondly at Lance.

He remembered the dream and grimaced, looking away. That person in his nightmare wasn't Lance. That thing couldn't ever be Lance. He needed to get ahold of himself. He put a bandaged hand to his mouth to hide his quiet cries, but that didn't muffle a soft sob from being released out of his chest. Next to him, Lance took a deep breath and sat up sleepily, stretching his arms. Keith looked at his boyfriend with wide, tear-filled, frightened eyes, and turned away as Lance opened his.

Lance's eyes widened when he saw Keith sitting up. "Keith?" He murmured. Keith just turned farther away from Lance and curled into himself. 'What are you doing?' Keith thought, scolding himself. 'Why are you crying? God, you're so weak.' He scrunched up his face, still holding his mouth with trembling hands. Lance quickly got out of the chair and sat on the bed next to Keith, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Keith, baby, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Keith muttered, flinching away from Lance. "I'm fine; go away." Lance gaped for a moment, then frowned.

"No." Lance said resolutely. Keith opened his eyes, letting tears spill from them. He turned to Lance, his fringe hiding his face, and punched him on the arm. Lance just put his other arm around the smaller teen and braced himself against Keith's thrashing.

"Go away!" He yelled in a rasping tone, punching him in the chest and belly with everything that he had, which, evidently, wasn't much. "Get the fuck out! I don't want you here- I fucking hate you!" Keith kept on insulting Lance and cursing him out until he finally submitted, slumping against Lance's chest. Lance just held him tighter.

"Please leave," Keith whimpered. "Please... please go away..." He thumped weakly against Lance's abdomen, but Lance knew that he'd won. Keith just sobbed quietly into Lance's chest as Lance buried his face in Keith's oily, unwashed hair, trying to hold back tears of his own. But, unlike Keith's, Lance's were tears of joy. Keith was back.

"I'm never leaving you again." Lance murmured against Keith's scalp. Keith let out a hoarse wail and Lance smiled, hugging Keith closer. Keith was back.

\----

That night, Keith ended up falling asleep again, this time against Lance's chest. Lance'd smiled and leaned back with Keith against the papery, hospital issued pillows. He allowed Keith room to shift and held him loosely, lightly dozing through the night. He woke up fairly easily when a nurse came into the room to check Keith's vitals. He told the nurse that Keith'd woken up the night before, and that he could wake Keith up now if it were needed. The nurse, who seemed friendly enough, looked down at Keith, then at Lance, then smiled and turned down the offer. She left, giving Lance a wink. Lance sighed and curled up to Keith once again, though this time he didn't actually fall asleep. He watched Keith breathe, watched the way his eyes flickered. Was he dreaming? Was that just how he slept? Lance didn't know. But he liked it a lot. He hadn't been able to see Keith sleep much, as Keith always went to bed after him and woke up before him, but these tiny glimpses of slumber were enough to sate Lance into contentment.

Keith suddenly stirred, yawning and slightly opening his eyes. He faintly smiled when he saw Lance, putting out a hand and tracing his jaw. Keith's gaze reminded Lance of the day that he'd almost died, putting out his hand and caressing Lance's face with a love so overflowing and neverending that Lance didn't know what to do with all of it.

"Hey, sharpshooter."

"Hey, pretty boy."

They didn't know what to do about the war, and they didn't know what they were going to do about Lotor, but they knew in that moment that they would live, not only for themselves and for the common good, but for their family. For their friends- for their squadron. For each other and for their future together.

They didn't know anything about what was going to come next, but they knew that whatever happened, they would have each other.


	5. Sick-Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets sick and Lance is only notified once he passes out in the training hall

I woke up to the cold. While I'm pretty okay with the cold, it was kind of unbearable. Well, not too bad, but enough to force me to put on thick sweatpants and a sweater. I looked around. My room was... different, somehow. Since the castle was reanimated, everything just seemed familiar without being the same. I stuffed my feet in my blue lion slippers and shivered, shuffling out of my room and to the dining room that was down the hall. I looked around, seeing Pidge in her usual attire and Hunk huddling with Shiro under a blanket to keep warm. Pidge looked at me and shrugged, nonchalantly continuing to eat her breakfast. I walked over and sat in my usual seat, which was right next to Keith's, who wasn't there. I figured that he was training again, since that's all he seemed to do these days. That's all he seemed to do regardless of the time, anyway. I eyed Shiro's white hair from across the room. Shiro was back. Just thinking about that made me smile. And while Shiro was truly back, it seemed as if Keith never was even there. Keith had become so much more mature in the two years he had been gone- well, two years to him, not me. And yet he still acted he he same. Aloof, distant, angry, always looking for a fight. He probably got that from his mother, who was then working at the BOM base. But, surprisingly, he'd been very tentative around Shiro lately, and I didn't know why. To my knowledge, the two were like brothers and were very close. It didn't make any sense to me that Keith would avoid Shiro like he did. I leaned my head on my hand and huffed a sigh. I'd just visited earth and my family, but was already homesick again. We'd stayed on Earth for about eight months while Allura and Coran found a way to get the castle-ship back. Pidge, Hunk, Shiro and I visited our families while Keith stayed back. I remember hearing something about him visiting his father, though.

Coran bursted in, greeting all the paladins a good morning. Hunk groaned in response and Pidge snickered at his turmoil. "Why the fuck is it so goddamn cold?" He said, sitting upright again. Shiro looked at Coran like he backed Hunk's use of language and Pidge just looked kind of confused. Did she not feel it? Coran chuckled sheepishly and pulled at his collar. He turned to the counter.

"Last night, the castle heater broke," Coran said, pouring himself a cup of tea. Hunk had recreated a drink that, while it wasn't tea, had a taste that was almost the same. Keith liked tea, and Coran and Allura loved it. I don't like tea, though. "We're getting it fixed now, but it's going to take a while."

Hunk groaned again and slammed his head on the table. Shiro yelped at the sudden loss of warmth. I raised my eyebrows and scratched at my cheek, taking a sip of almost-coffee. The room was quiet for about fifteen minutes while everyone ate and finished their breakfasts.

"Good morning, paladins," Allura said, walking into the dining hall. She looked around. "Where's Keith?"

I shrugged. "He's probably training, or something." Hunk said, pulling the blanket closer to him. Pidge nodded in agreement and stood, leaving the room. I watched her leave and then looked back to Coran, who was speaking to Allura at the table. I sighed again and left the room.

It was too cold for me. I didn't like it. And that's saying something, because I usually like the cold. I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and walked down the hall, deciding to visit Keith. I didn't know why I felt like I needed to, but I guess I just wanted to see him again.

As I got closer to the training deck, I heard grunts and the clashing of swords. So Keith was training. I walked up to the gallery and looked down on the deck, watching Keith fight. I normally liked the way he moved, so fluid and smooth, with nimble feet and strong arms. But on that day he seemed slower, more sluggish. I pinned it on the cold and sat down on the floor.

Keith flew through the levels. One, two, three, four. Before I knew it, Keith was panting, exhausted, and on training level nineteen. It was incredible, seeing him fight. I found him stunning, and I wasn't about to deny that I found myself attracted to him. Especially now that he was a bit taller and grizzled. I chuckled, thinking back to the year before when he came back.

I snapped out of my revere when Keith dropped his sword. I raised my eyebrow. He threw his head back, then suddenly fell to his knees. I gasped and ran down onto the deck.

"Training simulator off!" I yelled, running over to Keith right as he fell forward. The bots powered down and sank back down into the floor. I slid right before Keith and caught him before he hit the ground. I took him by the shoulders and shook him a bit, trying to wake him up. "Keith," I muttered. "Keith, buddy, are you alright?" His body trembled under my fingertips, despite his skin that was too hot to be healthy. His breathing was rasped and his skin was paler than usual, which was saying something because this kid was a literal vampire. I looked around worriedly and called for help. I saw Shiro jog in, then his eyes widened. He ran back out to the hallway and yelled something that I couldn't hear. He came back in and motioned for me to follow him. I gathered Keith onto my back and hurried after Shiro.

We quickly got the the medbay and I put Keith on a metal slab on which Coran scanned him with a sickle shaped body scanner. The results appeared on a screen right next to the slab.

"What was he doing when you found him?" Coran asked. Shiro shivered and looked to me.

"Training." I said. I looked down at Keith and frowned. He was breathing too heavily for it to be normal. I watched Coran look at his results, worry bubbling up in my chest. I don't think I'd ever felt that kind of concern for Keith, so it was very odd for me. Coran spun around and gave me a smile.

"He'll be fine." Coran said, aiming his response at me more than anyone else. "He's just caught a bit of a bug, a 'Space Flu', as you all seem to have dubbed it. He'll just need to rest and take care of himself for a while."

I heard a chuckle, then Shiro smiled at me sheepishly. I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"That might be a bit of a challenge." Shiro said, rubbing the back of his neck. I looked to him questioningly. "Well, Keith barely ever gets sick, as you've probably figured out, but when he does, he seems to hate people pitying him in any way, shape or form. He always tries to hide it, and goes to any length possible to keep people from knowing that he needs help. Knowing Keith, he wont let people near him, much less touch him."

I groaned in annoyance. That was just like Keith to be defensive like that. "Do you know how to deal with him?" I asked.

Shiro sighed and shook his head. "Keith doesn't even want to be near me right now. He isn't going to let me touch him at all until he gets over... what happened."

What happened? What did Shiro mean, 'what happened'? I decided that it wasn't worth my time at the moment, shrugging it off. "Okay, then who's going to take care of him?"

Coran put a hand to his chin. "Well, number five and number two are in the lab all day, fiddling with their gadgets, and number one isn't allowed to touch him, so it has to be you, three!" Coran pointed at me and I gawked.

"No way!" I exclaimed, folding my arms to my chest. I felt the blood rushing to my face at having to take care of Keith, and I saw Shiro and Coran discreetly sharing a knowing look.

"Lance," Shiro said, giving me a cautious smile. "You're really the only one who can do this right now. So please, just grit your teeth and bear it. I have a plan."

I let my arms down and sighed, looking to Keith. He seemed even worse than before, and I bit my lip. I looked back to Shiro with a grimace. "What's your plan?"

\---

"Your plan was to lock me and Keith in my room? Why my room of all rooms? Why couldn't it be his?" I yelled into the walkie-talkie like speaker that was attached to my wall. Keith was still KOed on my bed, making me a bit worried for his safety. But I wouldn't let him know that.

"It'll be fine, Lance. I'll come in later with food for you both and medicine for Keith. You'll be okay alone with him for a while, I know it. Remember- patience yields focus." Then the mic shut off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stood, pacing around my room and grumbling to myself. I heard a soft groan come from my bed and I froze, looking to Keith. He blinked his eyes open, looking around. He began to sat up and looked at me with glazed over eyes. He frowned.

"Lance?" He asked hoarsely. He coughed chestily into his fist for a moment, then stopped to breathe, the sound of his ragged breaths filling the room. I hummed, sitting once again on the floor. He looked at me with confusion.

"Where am I? I was training, wasn't I?" He said to me.

"You're in my room. You passed out in the training hall, so now I've been drafted to take care of you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Keith hissed, suddenly defensive. In that moment, I figured out what Shiro meant when he told me that Keith wasn't very easy to take care of when sick. "I'm fine."

 

"Sure, okay. Keep telling yourself that, dropout." I said, taking out my communicator and opening a game onto it. Keith's nostrils flared at the insult and he growled, leaning against the back of my bed and crossing his arms. There was silence in the room, other than the pews and pows of my game, then Keith leaned forward erupted into another coughing fit. It sounded wet and even more chesty than the last one, so I frowned and walked over, sitting next to him and rubbing his back. He tried to shove me away and failed, just coughing even harder. I shushed him and spoke quietly, trying to soothe him in some way, shape or form. He suddenly leaned into me as his coughs died down. I was surprised, naturally, but put my arm around his shoulders and rubbed his forearm lightly. He was still too hot, despite the cold and the anti-fever medication he was given, and his eyes still had that fevered film over them that told me that Keith wasn't really in his right mind. I knew this already, though- otherwise, why would Keith be leaning into me right then?

"I'm... I'm fine," Keith snarled weakly, though he made no move to move off of me. He shook violently, giving it away that he obviously wasn't.

"No you're not." I said firmly. He coughed again and groaned, letting himself lean further into my side. I just allowed him to and held him closer. I shifted so that his head fell into my lap, and surprisingly, he didn't resist or struggle at all. I smiled to myself and played with his hair, brushing the sweat-soaked fringe off of his forehead. I ran my hand over through it, trying to be nice to him for the first time in a while. It seemed to pay off, as he almost instantly fell asleep. I couldn't help but think that he seemed pretty cute like this, but I knew that he would never think the same of me. No, it was easier to just hate him.

I twisted the ends of his hair in my fingertips. It seemed as if he hadn't cut his hair in a while, seeing as he had too many split ends to count. It annoyed me that he didn't take care of himself and it annoyed me that I would have to deal with this for a few more days.

After a while, he flipped onto his back and scrunched up his face, grimacing in fear. Was he dreaming? I traced his jaw with my fingertips, pushing his hair back. He seemed to calm for a moment, then he half-opened his eyes, looking to me. I gave him a slight smile and put my hand to his forehead. He pushed my hand off and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Stop." He mumbled.

"Stop what?" I said.

"Stop... all of this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He frowned deeply, pushing himself to sit up on the bed. I tried to help him, but he slapped my hand away and turned to me with a snarl.

"That! Stop trying to help me. I don't fucking need it." His outburst struck fear into my heart for a moment, but then I remembered that he was as easy to manipulate as play-dough if you executed it correctly.

"I'm not helping you, though." I said. He looked at me in confusion. "I'm helping the team by taking care of you. I wouldn't if I didn't have to, you know."

 

"But you don't have to!" He cried, getting up and staggering to the door. I stood up too, just in case he needed to be caught. He tried to open it and yelled out in annoyance when it didn't budge. "Leave me alone." He said.

"No. You're sick and if you don't let me deal with it then you're going to get worse. And we can't have our trademark dropout Galra dying on us, can we?"

"Shut up!" He yelled. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Yeah huh I do! I bet your dad hated you when you dropped out, huh? I bet your mom was pissed too when she found out- oh! And Shiro! How did he react? Did he have to same face as when he found out you were a Galra? Huh?" I knew that it was wrong the minute it came out of my mouth. I regretted acting upon my impulses the minute I saw Keith put his hand over his mouth in shock.

Keith looked at me with wide, betrayed eyes. Tears welled up and spilled out, dripping down his face. "What the fuck?" He whispered. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Keith turned around and banged on the door feebly, as if that would help him in his escape. I moved towards him with every intention to apologize, putting out my hand.

"Keith-"

"Get away from me!"

Keith punched the door, then slid to his knees, putting his head against the freezing metal of the door. "Please," He whimpered. "Please get away." I saw a puddle of tears on the floor in front of Keith, and I knew that I'd fucked up bad. I knelt next to Keith, putting my hand on his back. Keith tried to shrug me off, but I just put my hand back.

"Keith, I'm so, so sorry-"

"My dad's fucking dead."

I was startled by the bluntness, pulling back for a moment. "I... I thought you visited him when we went to Earth?"

"I went to his grave."

"Oh."

Keith silenced and closed his eyes, furrowing his brow. "Maybe you're right."

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe you're right. Shiro even told me that I was worthless, so why would I have any reason to dispute that? Maybe you're right."

"Shiro told you..." I blinked in shock. Shiro told Keith that he was worthless? When? Where? I shook my head. "You're not worthless, Keith. I just fucked up. I didn't mean any of that. I was just mad."

"It had to have some truth, though!"

"It didn't."

More tears welled up in his eyes and he leaned into me again, allowing me to hold him in a hug. I felt so bad in that moment- I made him cry like this.

"I'm sorry," He said, sobbing into my chest. "I'm sorry."

I shushed him, assuring that he didn't have anything to be sorry about. Eventually, we moved again to my bed, where I gathered him in my arms and hummed some old lullabies. He drifted off, curled up into my chest. I took that opportunity to put the back of my hand on his forehead. He still had a fever, and a rather high one at that. I frowned and rubbed my hand through his hair.

There was a quiet knock at the door and it opened, revealing Shiro. I sighed. I was so hungry I could die. He gave me a bowl of what looked like purple mush and put another on my nightstand. Along with the bowl, he placed down a cup of mysterious blue liquid that looked blueberry flavored, though I knew that it was far from it.

"How is he?" Shiro asked in a whispered tone. He looked at Keith with some level of shock. I guess he was surprised that Keith was actually letting me touch him, but I couldn't be too sure.

"Not too much better, to be honest with you." I said, irritated. I remembered back to when Keith told me what Shiro had said, and I was slightly suspicious. Why would Shiro say a thing like that? It just didn't add up.

Shiro frowned and nodded, then giving Lance a wary grin. "Good luck." He said, waving to me and leaving the room. I growled silently as I watched his back, knowing that he'd given Keith some form of grief. It annoyed me that Shiro, who was supposed to be Keith's brother and best friend, would be so horrible to him. I looked down as Keith shifted in my arms and I snapped out of my train of thought, smiling down at him. Without him being sick, I could totally get used to this.

I shook him into half-consciousness and made him eat a little bit before drinking the blue liquid, which put him right back to sleep. I ate as he slept, finishing off the bowl in less than ten minutes. I fiddled around on my communicator for an hour, playing games and texting with Pidge.

He moved a little bit, opening his eyes and looking at me. I gave him a grin, which he returned. He seemed kind of dopey, which I found adorable. His eyes fluttered shut again, leaving me to wonder if our interaction was just my imagination. I really hoped that it wasn't.

For the next three days, Keith was pretty much out. The heater came on eventually, but it took a while to completely warm up the castle, so I had to keep Keith bundled up in a mound of blankets so that he didn't get too cold. He ate very little and took his medicine, but other than that he was mostly asleep. I got to see all of it, and, thankfully, he seemed to have forgotten all about our fight. I didn't, though. I still remembered the pain in his eyes and the utter sadness in his tone.

On the night of the third day, Keith woke up fully and decided that he was well enough to train. I was, however, asleep, and didn't know this until later. He snuck out somehow, and in the morning I found him laying in the bed, completely beat up. I was, obviously, very confused, but I didn't think much of it and went about my day with him.

On the fifth day, Keith seemed a lot better. He showered and changed clothes, greeting me with a small smile. We spoke more and got to know each other better, and I realized that Keith wasn't so hard to be around. He made me laugh. We were actually allowed out of the room that day, and we ate lunches and dinners with the rest of the team. They were happy to see Keith back on his feet, and they were happy to see me not fighting with him 24/7. It was nice. Until suddenly it wasn't.

We yelled at each other in the hallway. He was too close. I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and for a moment I thought he may have still had a fever. He was cursing me out, and I was just returning the gesture. It was horrible. We'd had such a good streak, and I went and ruined it by calling him out during dinner.

"I didn't drop out because I wanted to, Lance! I was kicked out!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. If you didn't have what it takes to be a fighter pilot, then you should've dropped out voluntarily!"

"Fuck you!"

 

"Fuck you too!"

For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing that filled the hallway. Then, out of nowhere, Keith grabbed my shirt and pulled me down into a kiss. I was, of course, startled, but instead of pushing him away, like I probably should've, I leaned into the kiss, putting my arms around him and pushing back just as hard. It was rough, sloppy. I loved it. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over, and I stood with him, my arms around his neck, looking into his eyes. They were clouded over, but not with fever this time. This time they were clouded over with conflict. He slowly pushed my arms off of his shoulders and speed-walked away in the opposite direction of his room. I still stood in the hallway, shell-shocked.

I found him later in the observatory, holding his knees to the chest and looking out into the vast expanse of space. I sat next to him silently, leaning back on my arms.

"The universe is so big." He murmured. I hummed in acknowledgement. "Every time I look outside, I see constellations that I didn't even know existed. I don't see Lyra, or Lacerta. I don't see Leo or Orion. I don't see either of the Ursas. It's all just so foreign."

"Yeah." I said, not knowing what else to say.

"I wish I could see them again." Keith said into his knees. "We were just at Earth, and I really don't want to go back, but I just want to see our constellations again."

"I can feel you there." I whispered.

He leaned onto my shoulder, letting me put an arm around his shoulders. "Do you like me?" He asked warily.

"Yes." I said quietly. He looked up at me with those eyes- dark grey, slate. They shone in the light of the stars, and his irises looked like universes themselves.

"Okay." He said, looking back outside. I held him closer and smiled. I felt a smile on my chest as well, so I kissed the top of his head.

After that, we began to date. Dating Keith has given me some of the best experiences I could've asked for, especially at night with him. He was very cuddly and loved the attention he got from me. He was like a cat, to be honest- he would spend all day in bed if he felt like it, and would constantly vie for my affection discreetly, like he didn't want anyone else to know he liked it. He would give me smiles I knew were reserved for me and kissed me like he'd never been kissed before. Every interaction was like the first, and bells went off in my head when I looked at him. I loved him, and I still love him.

I don't know what the future brings, but I'm ready to face it as long as I'm with Keith.


	6. Puzzles (Mindless Galra Keith Torture #1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galra Keith. First prompt of what will probably be many

A single golden eye, staring back at him. He blinked and it was gone quicker than it arrived, but it unnerved him nonetheless. He shrugged it off, but couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that something was happening. He shivered and put his jacket on, inspected his eye once more, then left, heading for the kitchen. He felt uncomfortable, as if his skin wasn't his. He shivered against the chill of the castle and pulled his jacket closer to his body, walking faster. Was someone watching him? No. Probably not.   
He entered the kitchen, greeting Pidge with a curt 'hello' before grabbing a granola bar and leaving for the training deck. Something seemed to be happening, and he didn't know what it was, making him dislike the entire situation. Disregarding this, however, he finished his breakfast quickly and stretched, looking at his watch for the first time that morning. He raised his eyebrows when he saw that the time was around 4:40 A.M.. That must have been why Pidge was the only one eating. He was sort of surprised at this information, but put it up to the fact that his body was still a little out of sync from their last mission. He rolled his shoulders back and looked to the high ceilings, getting no solace from the blaring whiteness of it all. The castle seemed to be all white all the time, and it made Keith uneasy. He grew up in places with a lot of color, and though that color always seemed to sicken him in some way, the white doors and walls and roofs of the castle-ship weren't any better.

"Training sequence on: level four." He spoke loudly, hearing the system come to life when he did. He summoned his bayard and held it in front of him, standing at attention when the first two bots raised from the floor. He let out a yell and lunged, fighting with early-morning vigor. He'd always felt at home when he trained or fought, but even so, he still felt off in a way. His hands felt stiff and his movements felt sluggish, though he didn't know why. He thought that maybe it was because he didn't get enough sleep the night before. That would also explain the yellow eye incident- a hallucination. He stuck with that and fought, hoping that that tight feeling would melt into looseness as he trained.   
Since it was an easy level for him, he allowed himself to daydream while he hacked at the bots. He didn't like being in Voltron much. Being a part of a team was somewhat odd for him, if not discomforting. He didn't like people, much less these people. Shiro always told him to keep an open mind, but it was hard to do so when there were people everywhere, constantly. Especially in a place where half the people hate you. In fact, he had a list of the people who probably hated him.

Allura

Coran

Lance

And another for the people who possibly didn't hate him.

Hunk

Pidge

And another for the ones who liked him.

Shiro

He felt sad that the lists were pretty obvious to him. He couldn't help the fact that he was unlikable, though, just as he couldn't help that he was Galra. He could blame his mother for this, though. It wasn't fair to, but he did. He almost wished he were never born. He wants everyone to be happy, and why would people be happy when they're around someone so unhappy all the time? It just couldn't compute to Keith how he could fit in in this puzzle that was already so completed. It just wouldn't work.   
Keith parried and slid his sword up the bot's, effectively shoving it out of its metal hand. The bot stood up and waited while Keith finished the other off. They both sank back into the floor, being replaced with four others.

"Training level five!" He yelled, wiping some sweat off his brow. He didn't realize that he'd been sweating, nor that he was out of breath. That was odd- he was never out of breath after level four. That level was normally easy for him. He shrugged it off and leaned into his stance, lunging once more at the four bots, decapitating the first one and slicing off the sword-hand of the next. He jumped and used the falling body of the first bot as a step-stool, catapulting off and lopping the top half of the third bot off. He landed hard, wincing at a shooting pain jarring his foot. He stood, shaking out his foot, then ran at the next bot, clashing swords.

"Monster."

"Half-and-half freak."

He faltered, allotting the bot time to thrust the sword into Keith's abdomen. Keith dodged and parried, hopping back and leaning forward. He ran forwards and swung his sword again, the bot parrying as he had and throwing Keith's sword to the ground. Keith crouched as the bot's sword whizzed over his head, rolling over to his sword and grabbing it, holding it out in front of him. He pushed it forward into the bot's robotic belly, making it glitch and make noises similar to the Windows' start up sequence. The bot lowered into the ground.

"Training sequence six!" He panted. After that, he blew through most of the training levels. On training level twelve, he felt himself tiring enough to slow down. He jumped and spun, incapacitating two of the robots, then, throwing his sword like a boomerang of sorts, skewered three. He yanked the sword out of them and went for the remaining four with a determined yell.

"Why are you even alive?"

He tripped and fell to the ground with a grunt. He froze in his place, feeling around for his sword. This allowed one of the bots to aim its sword at Keith's forehead. He looked up, staring up into the bot's beady crystal for an eye. It seemed to sneer back at him, laughing at his defeat. He knew that was impossible though, as the robots didn't have any feelings.

"Training sequence twelve: failed." The bot hunched over, lowering back into the ground and under the training deck. Keith sighed and stood, walking over to the bench area to wipe his sweat with a towel and take a swig of his now-lukewarm water. He checked his watch. 9:32 A.M.. People would begin to wake up soon, he was sure. He decided to take a shower and come back to the deck later after having a real breakfast. He walked to his room, frowning when he saw a shallow cut in his forearm that dripped blood. He decided not to worry about it, seeing as it was a superficial wound and was unlikely to cause any sort of real damage other than maybe an unnoticeable scar. He walked into his room and sighed, flopping onto his bed and looking up at the ceiling above him. The white light blared down at him, forcing him to squint against it. He closed his eyes and breathed, thinking for just a moment, before sitting up and wrapping his cut. He walked into the bathroom and undressed, looking himself in the mirror.   
He was too pale. Shiro had always told him as such and he'd always denied it, but he knew for a fact that he needed to get more sun. That wasn't a problem then, as much, because tanning wasn't the first thing on anyone's mind. Except maybe Lance's. He also didn't like the ugly scarring that he'd accumulated over the years. There were too many in so many places. It made him upset just to look at them. Other than that, though, he was muscular and had a good physique, which was probably because he worked out so much. He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, turning on the shower and stepping in.   
He tended to take steaming or scalding showers, but after training he would always cool off by taking cold ones. He found that it made him more alert and less tired, and that made him a better Keith. He washed up and turned off the shower, getting out and rubbing his hair with a towel. He looked himself in the mirror again when he was drying off and let out a strangled yelp. His eyes were a bright gold, reminding him of how they seemed that morning. He leaned over the sink and put his eyes near the mirror, opening them manually with his fingers. He looked for any sort of white sclera, but couldn't find one. There no pupils, no irises. Only pure gold staring back at him. He suddenly felt a tingle from under the wet bandaging on his arm. He frowned and took the bandaging off, gasping when he saw purple fur growing from the corners of the wound. He swallowed hard and bandaged it back up, looking at his eyes once more. They didn't show any sign of going away, and he didn't want the others to see him like this, so he just locked the door to his room and sat on his bed.

\-----

Lance, for the first time in his life, was concerned for Keith.

He sat in the kitchen's breakfast nook, leaning on his hand and tapping his fingers rhythmically on that table. He felt anxious, looking around every couple seconds to see if Keith was actually going to show up to breakfast. It wouldn't be odd if he didn't because Keith only ever ate a real breakfast if prompted, but it still made Lance mad that his rival had the audacity to skip a meal eaten with everyone else in the castle.  
Pidge looked up from her laptop, eyeing Lance's behavior from across the table. She raised an eyebrow.

"Looking for someone?" She asked, adjusting her glasses. Lance gave her a look and sighed, leaning further onto the table.

"Where is everyone?" He whined. "I need human interaction to survive."

"That makes one of us than." She muttered, going back to her laptop and typing away. He glared at her for a moment then looked out the door, hoping that someone would come back into the kitchen. After a while, he decided to go and see if anyone was up anymore, as most of the castle's patrons tended to go back to bed for an hour after breakfast.

"Keith's training." Pidge said, giving Lance a smirk when he turned around indignantly. 

"Why would I need to know that?" Lance sputtered, embarrassed. Pidge snickered and kept typing onto her laptop, not responding. Lance huffed and walked back out of the room, instinctually heading for the training deck. Internally, he was glad that Pidge told him about Keith's whereabouts. He would never admit this, though. Not to anyone. Not even himself. He stretched as he walked, popping his joints and cracking his bones. It felt good.   
When he got to the training hall, he saw nothing but little splatters of dried blood on the floors. He frowned, hoping that Keith took care of whatever was bleeding. He turned on his heel and jogged down the hallway, getting in his morning run before the team started training. He got to Keith's door, stopping when he heard a quiet humming from inside. It was Keith, of course, but his voice sounded different. Deeper, maybe. A little more strained. Lance put his ear to the door, hearing Keith humming a song that he'd never heard before. He shrugged and jogged off, putting the odd sounding voice up to the door between the two then walked past, heading for his room.

Lance, for the first time in his life, was concerned for Keith. But, of course, he didn't act upon this concern. That was where he went wrong.

\-----

Keith put in his earbuds, playing some Frank Sinatra and pacing about his room. Pidge'd downloaded the same music onto all of their handheld communicators- Beyonce and Taylor Swift and Shawn Mendez- but he'd asked her personally to add some older music to his own collection as well. He was glad he did it, too, because it always seemed to calm him down.   
He hummed along to 'My Funny Valentine' and sat on his bed, rubbing his face anxiously. He hated this. He hated this with a burning passion. He knew that he had to leave his room at some point, but he also knew that if he did, he'd most likely be stoned by Coran and Allura, then shunned by Lance, then feared by Shiro, then pitied by Pidge and Hunk. He didn't want that at all. He growled, yanking out his earbuds and standing, running a hand through his hair. He stopped when he felt two large ears sticking out from the top. He touched them and wiggled them around, making sure they were actually real. He sped to the bathroom, taking in his new look. Purple fur tufting out from different parts of his skin and making it itch, two still golden eyes, a pair of fluffy purple ears, and fangs sticking out where his canine teeth should be. This was definitely going to prove hard to hide.

"What the fuck am I gonna do now?" He whined, sitting on the toilet and putting his head in his hands. He winced when he felt a prick in his skin, looking to his fingers and groaning when he saw sharp, black talons replacing his fingernails. He needed help with this. And there was only one person who he could ask. He stood and walked out of the bathroom, grabbing his communicator and typing something in. He held it up to his ear, frowning when he realized that his ear was on his head, then put in on speaker.

"Yeah, Pidge? I kinda need your help with something."

\--

Keith sat down, his ears flattened upon his head shamefully. Pidge was walking around him, inspecting every purple tuft of fur, every little bit of his ears. She carefully looked at his talons, making sure not to cut herself. She had Keith open wide while she touched and checked his teeth, then held his eyes open as she kneeled on his lap and stared at them.

"When did this start?" She asked, standing and typing something in on her holographic keyboard, which was linked to her laptop which sat on Keith's bed.

"This morning, before training." She turned and looked at him with a peculiar expression on her face.

"This morning, as in at four-thirty?"

"Yeah. I woke up really early." He said, fidgeting. She nodded and typed something again, the keys on the hologram making little sounds.

"So you've been alone with this for," She checked her lion-issued watch. "nine hours?"  
He nodded sheepishly and looked down, his ear twitching. She walked over and grabbed his chin, holding his face up so she could see. "It's spreading faster than before, I presume, so you should be completely covered by..." She typed something in, quickly getting a response. "ten o'clock tonight."

He sighed uncomfortably, tapping his foot. He began to get a weird sensation in his stomach, but put it up to nerves and kept listening to Pidge.

"We're gonna have to tell people eventually, you know." She said, looking at him sympathetically through those huge glasses of hers. Keith hated that look. He hated being pitied. He looked away and tried to calm his anxiety at the very thought of leaving his room.

He found it hard to do so, though, when the sensation turned into pain, then the slight pain turned into excruciating pain within a matter of minutes. He coughed, almost retching, and doubled over. This distracted Pidge from her rambling and she frowned, going over to Keith. She put a hand on his back and crouched down in front of him. "Hey," She said softly. "are you okay?" Keith groaned, shaking his head slowly. He suddenly gagged and scrambled to the bathroom, sliding down in front of the toilet and vomiting into it. The whiteness blinded him, making him even more nauseous than he already was. Eventually he started dry heaving and finally had a chance to look at what he threw up.

He almost gagged again when he saw that the toilet bowl was filled with blood.

Pidge stood behind him, rubbing his back and telling him things that she thought would make him feel better. If Keith had the time to think, he would notice that this sort of compassion was odd for her, which would make him think that maybe she didn't dislike him at all. But he didn't do that. He retched dryly into the toilet once more and promptly fell sideways, getting caught by Pidge before he hit the ground.

She huffed in worry and grabbed her communicator from her back pocket, hitting the 'call all' button. Everyone picked up almost immediately, and in time to hear Pidge's desperate "Keith's room. Help!" Before she hung up.

It was Lance who arrived first, bursting in expecting Keith to be doing something to Pidge, but gasping when he saw her on the ground, trying to pull a fluffy, purple Keith on her lap. Keith, who was unconscious, looked terrible to say the least. He had blood dripping from his lips and the skin that still remained was paler than Lance'd ever seen it. Hunk had about the same reaction as Lance, but when he saw, he immediately ran over and helped Pidge gather Keith into his arms. Lance was appalled at the fact that Hunk wasn't even questioning Keith's characteristics, just picking him up and running past with Pidge. Lance stood in Keith's room alone, still gob-smacked, before he heard a yelp coming from the hallway. He heard yelling and Shiro's arm power up, deciding then to leave the room and see what was happening.

Shiro stood in front of Hunk, who was guarding Keith, who was sitting propped up against a wall. Pidge yelled from the sidelines, probably knowing that she was too small to be of any help.

"Who the fuck let that thing into the castle?" Shiro exclaimed, poising to boomerang his detached arm at Keith. Hunk stood in front of Keith, protecting him.

"It's Keith! It's your brother!" He cried, walking over and putting his hands on Shiro's shoulders. "Stop! He's hurt- we need to get him in a healing pod!"

Shiro squirmed and whimpered, looking to Keith, who was still unconscious. "Keith?" Shiro asked nervously, lowering his hands from his stance. Keith groaned, cracking his eyes open a bit and looking around blearily. "Shiro?" He murmured. He coughed again, more blood trickling down his chin. Shiro choked out a sob and stepped back, putting his hands to his mouth in shock. Keith passed out, hurriedly being picked up by Hunk once more, the three of them running down the hall towards the med bay. Lance stood in the hallway, not saying a word.

He heard footsteps behind him turning to see Allura walking up to him, giving him a smile. "I got a call from Pidge, but I didn't hear what she said. Did you hear it?"

"Yes." He whispered, not moving an inch.

"Well then. Speak up. What did she say?" Allura grinned and gave Lance a poke, frowning when his facial expression didn't change. He seemed afraid, even traumatized. She was concerned for the blue paladin. He looked down to his shaking hands.

"I couldn't help." He whispered again, his eyes wide. "I couldn't do a damn thing."

"For what?" She coaxed. He looked at her, his blue eyes filled with worry and fear.

"Why couldn't I help? Why couldn't I move?"

"Move to do what?"

Lance took a shaky breath and looked down the hall, whereas Allura was just noticing the blood on the floor. Her eyes widened and she looked to Lance, who offered a hand. "Come with me," He said, his voice faltering. "Please." She furrowed her brows and took the hand, letting him lead her towards the med bay.

\----

The residents of the castle-ship looked in on Keith, whose body was almost completely eaten up by the purple fluff. This would be funny to Lance, but the fact that Keith was in a healing pod really took all the humor out of the situation. He stumbled off the raised pod area and sat heavily on the couch, watching everyone stand expectantly around the pod. Allura watched Keith's face with an unreadable expression, though Lance could see the conflict in her posture. Coran stood off to the side, averting his eyes.

"He's not going to be out of the pod for a little while," Coran said somberly. Lance was kind of surprised. This was the first time he'd seen the bubbly Altean unhappy. It was weird. "so you all should go about your day as normal." Some of the others voiced their agreement and some of them nodded. Lance sat on the couch still, watching everyone trickle out, until all who was left was him and Shiro.

The black paladin stood in front of Keith's pod, looking at Keith's face. He was worried. Shiro knew that Keith'd asked Pidge for help, and while that was a normal thing to do- asking for help- he knew it wasn't a normal thing for Keith. Keith almost never revealed how he felt, especially when something was wrong. He just bottled all of his feelings in and tried to deal with it all himself, usually getting hurt in the process. Shiro was concerned that Keith would subconsciously tie this bad experience to the fact that he was asking for help, leading him to stop progressing socially. He was, of course, also worried for Keith's safety, but, as his brother, knew that Keith was resilient and practically invincible. Keith would, physically, be fine, but mentally, who knows what Keith would go through alone.

Lance watched Shiro tensely, wondering if he should say anything or not. Eventually, Shiro shook his head and walked away, leaving Lance alone with Keith. He sat up and leaned forward, looking at Keith. He got up from the couch, meandering over and sitting on the top step of the healing pod platform. He watched Keith's vitals as they fluctuated on a small, holographic screen. "What the fuck happened?" He murmured, watching bubbles in the indistinct pod liquid as they floated to the top. He stood again, walking towards the pod and putting his hand against the glass. It was cool on his fingers.

He put his head on the glass, drawing a deep breath. "What the fuck happened to you, Keith?" He whispered, closing his eyes. "What the fuck happened?"

\---

The next three days were tough. Everyone was in a bad mood all the time- Pidge, who was normally quiet, was angry and loud. Hunk was depressive, cooking too much too often. He really did stress-bake. Shiro was constantly training, as if that would help him make up for Keith's lost time. Allura and Coran fiddled with the ship all day, making adjustments and adding new features. Lance sat in the med bay, watching Keith and worrying over when the other would come out. He told the others that he just wanted to make fun of the guy's purple fur, but he knew that it was because he was really, really concerned for the red paladin. Oof.

Coran explained to them that the reason Keith was vomiting blood was because of the abrupt change to his body and organ systems. The change, however, went unexplained as nobody could figure out a reason behind Keith's transformation.

Lance woke up in the middle of the night to the quiet hiss of evaporated liquid escaping the pod. He turned around quickly to see Keith falling out of the pod, almost catching himself, then stumbling over again. Lance scrambled up and caught Keith, the latter of the two looking up at Lance with clouded over eyes. "Lance?" He rasped, his voice sounding rough from disuse.

"Yeah, Keith. How're ya feeling?" Lance murmured, helping Keith stand as the now-fuzzy teen push himself off the other. Keith put a hand to his head, groaning softly.

"Like shit." He said. He fell forward, getting caught once more by Lance, who slung Keith's arm over his shoulders and held him up. Keith looked at him again. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because it's two o' fuckin' clock in the morning and I'm the only sorry sack of shit who's still here this late." Lance grumbled, seemingly agitated. He wasn't. "I'm getting you some food and then I gotta get to bed."

Keith looked away, pushing himself off Lance once more, walking unsteadily for himself. Lance nervously followed slightly behind, looking Keith up and down. The red paladin was covered fully in purple fur, two large ears (like a cat's) were perched atop his head, swiveling around and twitching every couple seconds. Keith held his arms, giving Lance a good view of Keith's new claws, which dug into his skin. That unnerved Lance, but he left the thinking up to Keith and followed the other into the kitchen.

Lance grabbed a bowl and filled it with food goo, sliding it in front of Keith. "Here." He tossed Keith a spoon and sat diagonal from him, watching him eat ravenously. "Slow down," Lance said, annoyed. "You're gonna choke." Keith glared at him and ate a little slower, finishing the bowl before Lance could even think.

The two headed to their rooms (which were right next to each other) and said their goodnights, walking in. Lance sat on his bed and put his face in his hands. "Why couldn't I do more?" He wondered, muttering to himself.. "Why couldn't I've been nicer to him? Would that have been so hard?"

He decided that no, it wouldn't have been, when he heard soft sobs floating through the thin wall that separated him and Keith. He sighed sadly, wishing that he could've done more. He turned over in his bed, put on his headphones, and went to sleep without even bothering with his skin care routine.

\---

"I'm fucking fine, Lance. Leave so I can goddamn sleep." Keith snapped. Lance was knocking on Keith's door early the next morning after being woken up by thumps coming from the next room over. He seethed and paced around the hallway, thinking of what to do. He wished he were Shiro in that moment, for the sole reason that Shiro was often the only one who could ever get through to Keith effectively. He decided not to relent, then knocked on Keith's door again.

"Okay, you're fine, but let me just see that you are. I'm trying to help, you emo edgelord. Stop being stupid." After he said this, he thought he heard a muttered "You're the dumb one," Before the door opened for Lance to walk in.

The room was dark, but Lance could see Keith clearly. The red paladin was standing by the punching bag in the corner of the room, his knuckles raw from the beat-down he'd given the exercise device. He walked away from it, pulling on a too-big T-shirt. He sat on his bed, leaning forward and gripping the blankets so tightly that, if you could see his knuckles through the fur, they would be white. "There," He mumbled. "You see I'm fine, right? Leave."

Lance frowned. Keith obviously was not fine. The Galra teen's ears were flattened against his head in a show of distress, though his face gave nothing away. He was like a rock- stoic and unmoving. The way he sat and the way he held himself, though, gave his emotional state away pretty quickly. "You're obviously hiding something."

"Am not!" Keith exclaimed, immediately after looking down in embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Lance spoke stiffly, as if he didn't care, though all he wanted to do was hug Keith like he did his little brothers and tell him that everything was going to be fine. But Keith wouldn't have any of that. Keith was too lone-wolf. He was hotheaded and rash, and if Lance made any wrong moves, Keith could blow up. The red paladin was like a ticking time bomb, of sorts.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Fuck you!"

"Tell me."

"Tell you what? I have nothing to tell."

"Bullshit."

Keith ground his teeth as Lance stood in front of his with his arms crossed. Keith was pissed. He wanted Lance to leave, though at the same time he wanted him to stay. He was conflicted- does he tell Lance what the other wants to hear so he would leave, or should Keith tell him what was really going on? He sighed.

"Fine." Keith grumbled, slouching over in defeat. Lance gave a small grin and sat on the floor in front of Keith, looking up at him expectantly. Keith looked at him oddly. "What?" He questioned, annoyed.

Lance frowned. "I'm waiting, cat boy."

Keith growled at the comment, then sighed. "I don't want to be seen as weak."

Lance scoffed, leaning on his hand with a smirk. "I think we already know that all too well, emo fuckboy." Keith glared at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. Lance was smart enough to know when he was being given a death threat, hence shutting up.

"I don't want sympathy. I don't want pity. I've had enough of it." Lance watched Keith shuffle around and fidget uncomfortably from where he sat on his bed. "However I find myself wanting someone to talk to, all of a sudden."

"It's not surprising, seeing as you almost died." Lance said, leaning back and crossing his arms. Keith furrowed his brows and gave Lance a look. Lance frowned and leaned back over.

"You may not be the best person, but Pidge is only gonna think of me as a science experiment for the next week or two. Hunk is a friend, sure, but he's not someone I would confide in. Shiro... I would talk to him, but he'd only try to help, and that's not what I need right now. And now you're in here, so I might as well get it off my chest, I guess."

"I don't like people. I think they're inherently noisy. I like quiet. It's easier to get that when you're alone, and I've always been alone, so I don't think I'm quite used to being around normal people every day yet. It's just... too loud. Do you get it?" Keith gestured with his hands as he spoke, and Lance couldn't help but wonder how soft Keith's fur was. His talons looked sharp, though, so he wasn't brave enough to try. When Keith was finished speaking, he nodded.

"Although I'm not used to people, I'm trying. I really am. I'm not up to date on social cues and I don't get a lot of references or jokes. I don't understand texting acronyms and I don't get emojis. And I don't know what the fuck memes are and I don't get why the song Country Roads is a 'normie' meme. What even is a normie? What the fuck even is culture anymore?" Keith stopped when he realized he was rambling, then took a deep breath and continued. "That being said, I'm trying to learn how to get along with people who are more normal than I am. Finding out I was Galra was a huge setback, but I tried to get through it. This-" He gestured to himself and looked at Lance incredulously. "I'm never going to be able to come back from this. And Allura was just starting to like me again, too. I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do now."

Keith ran a hand through his hair, stopping when he almost cut his ears. He brought his hands into his lap and fiddled with his claws. Lance frowned and stood.

"Right now, It's three am, and I doubt you've even gotten to sleep yet since you got out of the pod. We both need sleep man, and we can make a game-plan for what you need to do tomorrow. Okay?"

Keith scowled and nodded tersely. Lance smiled sadly. "Goodnight, man." He began to walk towards the door and he was almost there when he heard a small voice calling out from behind him.

"Wait."

He almost didn't believe it was Keith speaking to him. He almost walked out the door putting the puny voice up to exhaustion or lunacy. He thought maybe he was going crazy. But then he turned and saw that faint, embarrassed flush on Keith's face and he knew that it was real.

"What?"

"Stay," Keith muttered, quiet and utterly humiliated. "please."

Lance's mouth was slightly agape in shock, his brows furrowed in worry. Thousands of different emotions ran though his head and yet only one stood out.

Happiness? Why was he happy that Keith was asking him to stay? Why was he happy about that?

Despite his inhibitions, he walked over and sat next to Keith silently. The two sat in that same silence for a couple minutes before Keith tentatively put his head on Lance's shoulder, his fuzzy ears tickling the side of Lance's neck. He leaned towards Keith, allowing him to relax more. The two sat, again, in the same silence, but this time, something was different.

In that moment, Lance didn't think once of their rivalry. He didn't think once about how Keith was a Galra- the only thing holding him back from seeing his family. He didn't think about how Keith was always one step ahead of him at every turn. He didn't think, nor did he care about any of those things. All he cared about was Keith in that moment- not for reasons like hatred or bickering. He cared for Keith, and wanted so desperately for him to be okay. That surprised Lance when he thought back on it later.

He sighed when he felt Keith's breathing even out. He tried to stand, but when he felt Keith stir from under Lance's shoulder, he knew that wasn't an option. He scooted back, leaning against the metal wall behind him and shifting Keith so that his head lay on Lance's lap. Keith moved around, seemingly getting comfortable, then didn't move again. Lance smiled softly at Keith for a moment, observing his features.   
Keith was actually a very attractive person, though most of the time, Lance couldn't see that. Keith was too stoic to actually show anything more than a bored or angry expression, so Lance never got to see the red paladin like how he was then. Calm and pure, like he hadn't seen or felt anything yet. Lance saw how Keith's eyelashes flickered against his cheeks, making it seem like he was dreaming. Lance hoped he was. Keith could use some good dreams right about now.

He brought his hand to Keith's ears, which twitched when Lance's fingertips brushed against them. He gently pet the base of Keith's ears, evoking a soft purr from the other teen. It surprised Lance, but it made him more fascinated than he was before. He ran his hands through Keith's hair a couple times, stopping to pet his ears. He eventually stopped when Keith began to shift around and wake up, allowing the other to fall back asleep once more. He smiled and grabbed Keith's pillow, putting it behind his head and leaning back, looking at the ceiling. He fell asleep to Keith's quiet purrs, rumbling against his thigh.

\---

Keith quietly took a bite of some makeshift cereal the next morning, shifting the spoon around in his mouth to avoid his fangs. Lance, who was, save for Keith, the only one up, watched him intently. Keith caught his gaze and raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Keith asked, his voice deep and tired. It sent a chill down Lance's spine. Lance shrugged and continued to eat his own breakfast, the chartreuse flakes seemingly melting in his mouth. It was odd, but not bad. Hunk outdid himself. The room was silent, and Lance could see the lights of the castle get brighter as night-mode faded away. Keith, he thought, once told him that the castle was always too white, but Lance didn't see it. There was always some form of hue that overtook the air- blue, yellow. Though, Lance could admit that the castle's colors were somewhat monotonous, always the same thing. He leaned on his hand, pushing his cereal around in the bowl.

Keith suddenly stood, whirling around. Lance jumped at the abrupt action, almost spilling his breakfast all over the table. Lance scowled when he looked and saw no-one there. "What the fuck, man?" Lance said. "I could've spilled-"

"Shh." Keith put a clawed hand near Lance's face, holding up a finger in a 'wait' sign. Lance fumed, but did as he was told. After a couple seconds, Lance couldn't deal with it anymore. Keith was being annoying and Lance was too tired to deal with his bullshit. He was about to say something snarky when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were slow and practiced, as would be a lawyer's when they walk up to the stand. Allura. Lance's breath hitched, looking at Keith. First of all, Keith could hear from that far away? And second, Keith was absolutely petrified. The hand that had been in Lance's face was now lowered and shaking, and although Keith's face didn't disclose any fear, his ears were plastered to his skull. Lance frowned and debated on whether he should take Keith out of the dining hall, but then realized that the room had a single point of entry and no other exits. They would be seen.  
Lance gently grabbed Keith's hand, gaining a frightful look from the other. He slowly pulled Keith down so that he sat normally in his chair, but didn't let go of him. Lance held on firmly and looked into Keith's eyes, seeing nothing but terror and confusion. "It'll be fine," Lance whispered to Keith, holding onto his hand a little tighter. "I'm right here."

Keith furrowed his brows and looked down, pulling his hand from Lance's grasp. He heard a slight yelp coming from the blue paladin and looked back up, seeing a semi-deep gash in Lance's hand. Keith watched, frozen, as Lance hissed and cradled this hand, nursing the wound. Keith, suddenly realizing what he'd done, gasped and put his hands to his mouth.   
"Oh my god," He whispered through his hands. "Oh my god; I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."   
He stood and backed away, knocking over his chair in the process. Lance looked up from his hand to Keith, then back down. He looked to Keith once more and raised his eyebrows. Keith pressed himself against the wall and slid down, hyperventilating. He knew subconsciously that he didn't actually hurt Lance all that bad, but he still thought the worst.

'Lance is gonna die.'  
'Lance is gonna hate you.'  
'You're gonna be kicked from Voltron.'  
'You're gonna be killed by your family.'

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." He put his hands to his head and shut his eyes tightly, curling into a ball. "I'm sorry." He felt blood trickle down his forehead, but he didn't know from what. Did he cut himself? Didn't matter. He heard voices speaking frantically, then yelling between them. He heard a scoff, then a huff before one of them left.   
'They're leaving to go help Lance. They're gonna kill you. Be ready for it. Monster. Half-and-Half freak. Die.'  
Keith released a strangled sob and curled even further into himself. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, but it didn't feel comforting. It felt hostile and foreboding, a signal telling him that this was his fate. He flinched and jerked it off, shakily trying to move away. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't- "Keith," A voice broke though, making him freeze. Lance was still there? Why was Lance still here? Didn't Lance hate him? Why? The hand replaced itself on his shoulder and even though Keith tried to get it off, it stuck there like glue. "Keith, listen to me."

Keith whined and put his palms to his forehead, smearing the blood across his face. Lance gently grabbed Keith's wrists, suspending them in midair. Keith weakly tried to yank his hands away, but to no avail. Lance's grip was too tight. Keith slowly met Lance's gaze, his expression morphed one that a kicked dog would hold. The fur on his cheeks was wet with tears and his face was bloody. He felt like he couldn't breathe.   
"Keith," Lance said again, releasing one of his wrists and putting his hand to Keith's face. Keith wrenched his head away, but Lance just wiped a tear from Keith's cheek. He looked down, averting his gaze away from Lance's.   
"Keith," He said. Why was Lance saying his name so much? Keith choked a small sob. "I need you to listen to my voice, okay?" Keith felt like he couldn't breathe.  
"I'm gonna need you to do something for me, alright? I need you to count down from one hundred by eights. Do it for me, Keith." Lance slid his hand from Keith's wrist, holding it properly. He could feel a violent tremor in the red paladin's fingertips, and he watched as said paladin muttered numbers to himself, calming down the more he needed to focus. Tears still slid down those purple cheeks of his and his eyes seemed glazed over, worrying Lance. His cut still stung, but he knew if he let it show that he was in pain, he'd have to calm Keith down all over again.   
Keith blinked and looked up at Lance blearily. "Lance," He croaked. He looked down at Lance's hand, which held his own. It had just begun to stop bleeding. Lance could see the fear in Keith's eyes. "Lance, your hand..."  
"It's fine, Keith. I'm fine." Lance said, giving Keith a small smile. Keith grimaced and looked away, his ears flattened against his head. He uncurled himself and stood unsteadily, unconsciously grabbing onto Lance for support before realizing this and let go. He hugged himself and grabbed onto his upper arms, clenching. "Keith, you're gonna cut yourself. Stop."  
Keith frowned deeply and let go, attempting to get by Lance. He stood his ground and didn't allow Keith to pass. "Lance! Let me by!" Keith exclaimed, agitated. Lance studied him with concern. "Let me go! I don't need your fucking pity!" Keith yell echoed off the room, bouncing back and into his ear. Was he really that loud? He hesitantly looked up at Lance, who'd frowned. His nostrils flared, and Keith knew he'd fucked up.

"Pity? Is that what you think?" Lance said, his voice calm. His eyes betrayed him though, showing rage beyond Keith's wildest dreams. Keith hadn't seen anything like it from Lance. Not ever. "You think I'm giving you pity?"   
He barked a sharp laugh, making Keith flinch at the loud noise. His ears pressed down. "What I'm doing isn't pity." He said, the air taking on some heavy tension. Keith shut his eyes tightly and braced himself, but nothing ever came. He slowly opened up his eyes again, only to see Lance giving him a sad, lop-sided grin. A complete one-eighty from five minutes before. "It's not pity- I'm your teammate. I care for each and every one of you. But it's more than that, Keith. You're my rival, my nemesis. And while that seems like I hated you, I can assure you that I never did. I envied you. I still do. And now that I've taken the chance to get to know you, I've found out that you're not just that quiet kid who always stood on a pedestal high above me. You're a good person who I'm glad that I met. You may be my rival and I may pick on you a lot, but you're my friend above all else. And I take care of my friends. Even you have to admit that you need to be helped every once in a while, right? Well, let me help you."

Keith looked down, his eyes filling with tears again. He didn't expect Lance to talk to him like that. He expected punches and kicks. He knew for sure that he deserved it, but it never came. Nothing ever came. He was pulled into a hug, to which he didn't fight back. He submitted and rested his head on Lance's shoulder, wetting his jacket with tears.

"Let's go." Lance took Keith's hand and gently tugged him out of the room and towards his own. He heard voices from behind them, but since none of them were aimed at either him or Keith, he didn't turn and engage. He opened the door to his room and sat on his bed, Keith sitting next to him. It was silent for a short while. Lance stood and went to the bathroom, wrapping his hand in gauze then coming back and sitting down. Keith eyed the wrap uncomfortably, shifting around. It was, again, silent.  
"What happened while I was having that panic attack?"   
Lance looked down, memorizing how many times it took to completely wrap his hand. Eight wrap-arounds. "Allura came in."  
"And?"  
Lance didn't answer. Keith looked at him expectantly. "And? What happened when she came in?"  
"She saw my cut and freaked out." He said. Keith frowned.  
"Then?"  
"Then she saw you having a panic attack on the floor. She immediately figured out what happened and got super mad."  
"Unsurprisingly."  
"She started yelling at me about how 'if we keep something like that in the castle, others could get hurt'. I yelled back, of course, but you were right. Every bit of progress you two made is gone."

Keith looked down, frowning at his hands. He still felt a little shaky. His muscles were tight and he felt shitty. He needed to take his mind off the situation. "I'm," He said, his voice strained. "I'm gonna go train."   
He began to leave the room, stopping when he heard footsteps behind him. He sighed and kept walking, ignoring Lance behind him. The blue paladin wasn't going to budge, anyways.

"I don't think you should train right now, Keith."

"Go away."

"No."

Keith growled and took a sudden, sharp right into a room, closing and locking the door quickly before Lance could get through. He leaned against the door and sighed, sitting down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down. He didn't need this. Lance wasn't the person he should've been going to for help. In fact, Lance was probably the last person he should've been going to. And yet, he found himself looking to Lance for comfort, associating the blue paladin with the feeling of support. He didn't particularly like that feeling when it came from his rival. After a while, he finally opened his eyes and checked out the room in which he had hidden himself. He looked around. A huge half-dome window and dark blue metal walls, a slight blue hue coming from lights that rimmed the ceiling. Where was he? He stood and walked forward, going to the window and putting his hand onto it. Outside, there were hundreds of billions of stars, twinkling back at him with a smile. He smiled back. He headed over to a nook of sorts- a small bench that sat against the windows, enclosed by two sets of walls -and sat, looking out and forming constellations in his head. They weren't normal ones, like the ones he'd seen on Earth, but he could still see patterns of stars that he could make new ones out of.   
He named some- a circle of stars with a slight tip at the top, Yellow. A small box with two stars in it, Green. A line of stars, Black.   
A large pattern of stars that reminded Keith of the ocean, Blue. A set of two stars, diagonal from eachother but close in range, Red.

He heard knocking on the door, but ignored it. This was the first time that he'd felt peace in a long while, and he was going to relish it. He loved this place. He had heard Lance talk about an observatory before, so he decided that this was probably that.  
It was beautiful.   
He moved from the bench to the floor behind it, sitting on the step that led to a platform. He leaned back onto the next step, looking up at the amalgamation of stars.   
It was absolutely beautiful.

He breathed deeply, happy to have finally found a place in which he could relax. He loved the stars. He loved the quiet. He'd needed this. He heard the door open and frowned, realizing that Lance'd finally found a way to get in. He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and huffing in annoyance.  
Lance silently walked over and sat next to Keith, adopting the same posture he had been in formerly- leaning back against the next step, looking at the stars. Keith peered at him curiously. Why didn't Lance talk? That seemed to be the only thing that he knew how to do, anyway. He furrowed his brows and looked away.

"Why do you hate me?"

Keith raised his eyebrows and looked to Lance, who had a grim expression on his face. He looked down, then averted his gaze.

"I find you insufferable, yes, but I do not hate you."

He felt Lance's hot stare on the back of his neck. "Then why don't you let me help you?"

"I..." Keith faltered, grimacing. "I don't feel comfortable taking it." He looked at the floor.

"Oh."

There was silence once more. Keith heard Lance going to speak, therefore waiting with bated breath. "You're an awful person, you know." Keith raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up. Lance kept on speaking. "Yeah, you're horrible. You constantly avoid everyone as if we were the plague, you have no interest in being friends with us, and you deny any sort of emotion that you happen to have. You're rash, hotheaded, and mean, not to mention a lone wolf."

Keith scowled. He knew that Lance felt that way about him. He shouldn't have confided in the blue paladin in the first place. It was a mistake.   
"But," Lance said, grabbing Keith's attention. "You're still the red paladin. Red chose you for a reason, so you deserve to be on this team just as much as the rest of us. Though you may try to hide it, you are friends with us and I know that you would lay down your very life for us. I've seen you do it before. You help us, but when you're in trouble you don't let us help you. You think you're a burden, and I understand that. Believe me, I've been there. But chances are, the people who you think hate you probably love you. I know Shiro does. I know Hunk and Pidge do. I know that Coran does, and that deep down, Allura loves you too."

Lance fell silent, leaving Keith to soak up the torrent of information that Lance'd thrown at him. He kept his gaze to the floor with wide eyes. His hands shook. He took a deep breath, hating himself for what he was going to say next.   
"And you?"  
Lance looked at Keith, who was staring at him out of the corner of his eye. "What do you think of me?"

Lance blinked, then looked out at the stars again. "I already told you," He said, his eyes sparkling and betraying his stoic face. "I think you're an awful person."

"Okay."

There was silence again, leaving Keith with his thoughts and Lance with the stars. They didn't speak, but they didn't need to. There was finally a kinship between the two. A sort of... middle ground, if that's a good way to put it. Keith was somewhat happy. He could've done without the physical changes, but if that's what brought the two together, so be it.

They sat there for a while, enjoying eachother's company before Lance checked the time and sighed. "We missed lunch and Hunk's probably making dinner by now. Let's go rejoin the team and eat."

Keith nodded and got up to follow Lance to the kitchen. He was nervous. Just that morning, he'd had a panic attack and pissed Allura off. He didn't particularly want to see her again, to be completely honest. Still, though, he walked into the dining hall with Lance just as Hunk set the food onto the table. He gave the two a smile and sat down at his usual spot. Keith and Lance did the same. People filtered in- Pidge, Coran, Shiro. Allura came in, greeting the team and giving Keith a look. He brought his gaze to his lap and took a bite of his food. He wasn't hungry. How could he even eat if Allura was giving him the stink eye all throughout dinner? He stood, quietly excusing himself, then left the room.

Lance watched Keith leave, then frowned at Allura, who'd innocently gone back to eating her food. "What was that about?" Lance asked, directing his question at Allura. She looked up, raising her eyebrow in mock confusion.   
"What are you talking about?" She asked, taking another bite of her food. He huffed and finished his bowl off quickly, leaving the room. He headed straight for Keith's room. He knocked on the door and smiled when it opened immediately. Keith's face, originally stormy and upset, broke out in a grin when he saw Lance.

"Hey, Lance."


	7. BOM Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title sounds like   
> We all need some galra Keith in our lives right

Keith grunted in pain as Shiro helped him into the cockpit of the red lion. He'd lost use of his right arm by then, his strength completely sapped out of him by the trials that he was put through. Blood spread through the thick material of the jumpsuit that he was given. He was completely exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, but of course, he needed to come up with a plan on telling the others of his heritage. Though, even he couldn't comprehend that he was Galra.

"Are you going to be okay?" Asked Shiro. Keith nodded. He'd seen the hesitance when Shiro picked him up, and he could almost taste the tension that hung in the air. It was suffocating, knowing that Shiro was afraid of him. He just wished that the other would come out and say it, say that he hated him, rather than hold it in and subject Keith to the feeling of being pitied. He grit his teeth, raising his arms to the steering sticks of the red lion. The pain in his right arm was excruciating, but instead of voicing his pain, he bit his lip and flew the lion. To be honest, he was so scared of what the others would think. He was so scared that the people who he'd come to love would eject him out into space. He knew that it was very possible for them to do that. He didn't want to see that frightened face on Pidge; didn't want to see Hunk smile at him awkwardly, knowing that he didn't want to make Keith feel bad. He didn't want to see the absolute fury and distrust from Allura and Coran. He didn't want to realize the truth behind Shiro's loathing looks. But most of all, he didn't want to see Lance's hate. He didn't want to see the disgusted stare of his boyfriend, deep-set and cold. Keith could almost imagine those blue eyes- bright, bright blue -boring into his own. He didn't want to see Lance at all, knowing that he wouldn't want to touch him. Not like this. Not like this.

His arms shook from exertion once he touched down in the castle's hangar. He saw the rest of Voltron running in with smiling faces. He even saw Lance trying not to smile, and failing miserably. He hated to think that those smiles would soon be eradicated by the news he was about to give. Shiro tentatively helped him up, slinging Keith's left arm over his shoulder and lessening the load of his battered body. The red lion opened up, revealing the two to the others. There was a collective gasp when they saw Keith's body, but there was hesitation when they saw such an afraid look coming from Shiro. They stepped out from the red lion, Shiro allowing Keith to stand on his own.

Keith's entire body was shaking now. He was exhausted and so, so petrified of seeing the reaction from the rest of the team. He just knew that it wouldn't be good. Lance took a step towards him and Shiro.

"Stop!" Shiro said, provoking a heavy flinch from Keith. "Stop walking, Lance. Keith needs to speak."

Shiro's voice was full of hatred and fear. Keith saw the small steps that Shiro was taking, away from him. He saw everything.

"I..." He began. He felt a tear well up in his eye, but smothered the feeling. He needed to do this, whether or not he was flung out into space to die. He needed to. "I'm a Galra."

There was another gasp from the group. Keith kept his head down, staring at his feet and the puddle of blood around his right side. He looked up just in time to see Allura angrily stalking towards him, and just in time to see a fist flying towards his face.

"How dare you!" She screamed. "How dare you be a part of this! I could kill you!"

Keith's back hit metal; the red lion. Allura's punches were hard, practiced, and he could barely put his hands up to stop them. He hazily saw Allura being pulled back by Coran. Why was he doing that? Keith deserved to die, and he knew that well. After this experience, he was happy to die, if it made living any easier for the rest of the group. He fell to his knees.

"Keith!" He looked up when he saw someone running towards him. Blue... Blue. It was Lance. Keith wobbled in his kneeling state, then promptly passed out into Lance's chest.

"Shit!" Lance said, taking off his jacket and pressing it into Keith's wound. He looked around for help, but the rest of the team's gazes were averted, as if they were trying to ignore the situation entirely.

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?" Lance yelled. "Help me! Keith's gonna die!"

Hunk looked Lance in the eyes. "Why should we help him? He's Galra. One less of them is one less Galra to fight, right? So we should just let him die."

Lance sucked a breath through clenched teeth. Why was Hunk being so callous? Why was Pidge looking away like that, like she didn't care what happened? Why was Allura trying to get back to Keith, trying to beat him to death? Why?

He furrowed his brows in anger and heaved a sigh. "Fine. You stay here, and I'll go bring Keith, our fucking friend, to the goddamn sick bay," He said, lifting Keith on his back. "Since you guys don't seem to care what happens to him."

He walked out of the room, Keith on his back, without a second thought.

He sped down the hallway, feeling Keith's ragged breathing on his neck.

"Lance?" Lance heard a small, pain-filled voice come from his back. He looked behind him as he walked, seeing Keith's pale-skinned face and dulled eyes piercing his soul.

"You're going to be fine, Keith. It's all going to be fine." Lance said. He heard a quiet groan before Keith fell silent once again. God, this kid was going to die if Lance didn't get him into a pod quick. He reached the sick bay rather quickly and punched in a code to put Keith into one of the pods. He practically threw the younger teen in there, closing it and pressing a button to start the healing sequence. Keith's face, which was previously scrunched up in agony, relaxed with relief. And as did Lance's. He was so relieved. He just hoped that Keith wouldn't die in the pod, as he knew that the pod's healing abilities weren't 100%. Lance sighed, sitting on the step before the healing pod and waiting.

He heard footsteps approaching and looked up, seeing Allura. Her face harbored such a hate, such a loathing towards Keith. Lance frowned.

"Why is that filthy beast in one of our healing pods?" She spat, turning up her nose at Lance. "Why would you save such a thing?"

Lance snarled, but held back on socking her right in the nose. He wanted to be the bigger person in this situation, not fall victim to the same hatred that Allura held for Keith. He understood why Allura was so upset. He understood that well. But he didn't know why Allura was taking out her frustrations on Keith, who had been a part of this team and a loyal friend to them all since the beginning. How could that change just because they found out something new?

"Because, Galra or not, Keith's still Keith. He didn't change, he just didn't know until now."

"And how would you know that?" Allura hissed. Her body was rigid and her face had a deep-set frown on it. Lance didn't like that frown one bit.

"Because I know Keith!" He roared, standing and getting too close for comfort to Allura. She backed away, feeling the hot breath of an angry Lance on her face. His eyes gleamed with fury and his fists were clenched with rage. To be honest, Allura was sort of afraid.

"You know Keith, huh?" She muttered spitefully. "I'd bet my life that Keith was just some quiznacking spy for the Galra."

"That is something I doubt, Allura." Lance said, quieter now, but still with the same anger in his eyes. "That is something I seriously doubt."

"Let's see," She turned her back to Lance and left the room, leaving him to seethe on his own. "Let's see."

\---

Lance didn't speak to anyone for the entire two weeks that Keith was in the healing pod. He ate when food was ready, trained when told to train, and slept, but not a word came from his mouth. The others found it odd, as Lance had previously been so talkative, but still felt weird around him, seeing as they didn't trust Keith and he did.

It was nighttime when Keith emerged from the pod, so Keith once again was alone to regather his scrambled thoughts and stumble to his room for what was most likely the last time. Everyone else was asleep, and he knew that he wouldn't be staying long, so he wanted to at least sleep in a bed before he died. He rested his hand on the wall for support and began to stagger down the hallway. He got to his room and looked at the door right next to his own. Lance's room. He frowned, remembering how Lance had carried him, how he shoved him into a pod. How his eyes looked when he spoke to Keith- comforting and secure.

"It's all going to be fine,"

Keith sucked in a breath at the memory from that day and gazed woefully at the door before him. He finally mustered up the courage to go up to the door and knock with all his strength, which, evidently, was very little. He heard shuffling throughout the room before it opened. Lance wasn't going through with his nightly skin care routine, it looked like, and he gasped when he saw Keith.

"Hey, Lance." Keith mumbled. He put on a sad smile and stood in the doorway. The silence between them was deafening until Lance tackled him into an embrace. Keith was surprised, putting his hands up in shock. He felt Lance's hands clench into the back of his jumpsuit, and he did the same to Lance's jacket. Lance was so warm, and he was so tired...

"You're okay, oh my god, you're okay," Lance said, putting his arms around the smaller of the two. Keith grabbed hold of Lance tightly, as if he didn't believe that Lance was actually real, and buried his head in Lance's shoulder. He then remembered how Lance had used his jacket to stop Keith's own bleeding shoulder and pulled out of the hug, looking at Lance up and down. Lance was in his pajamas, other than the green jacket around his shoulders, good as new.

"What is it?" Lance said, cocking his head to the side.

"Your jacket..." Keith rasped.

Lance looked at his jacket and then back at Keith, then started laughing.

"You were the one who was about to die, the one in a healing pod for two weeks, and the one who is hated by everyone else on the team, and you're worried about my goddamn jacket?" Lance laughed. It sounded maniacal, crazy, like Lance was holding onto that laughter for survival.

Keith stepped back. "They actually hate me, huh?" He said, looking down. Lance sobered after a moment and looked at Keith.

"Yeah. I'm not going to lie and tell you that they just don't understand. They actually understand completely. They distrust you a whole hell of a lot. Allura basically wants you dead."

Keith flinched at the last part and looked away. His entire body felt like it was on fire. He felt so shameful for being how he was. He would've been okay with dying. But he guessed that this was his punishment for being this way- living with the knowledge that everyone he loved hated him. Knowing that he was the thing that Voltron so desperately tried to eradicate. He hated himself.

"I guess that means that I'm being kicked from the team?" He asked, his voice gravelly and small. Lance winced. He remembered how Keith's voice had sounded exactly the same the day that he came back. He didn't know that Keith could be so tiny, could shrink himself so small that he could fit inside Lance's arms. He never seemed to be that way until now.

"I don't hate you though, so no." Lance said, putting a hand to Keith's face and gently raising his gaze to meet Lance's own.

Keith's eyes widened and he looked up at Lance, who had a slight smile on his face. Tears began to well up in his eyes again, and however much he tried to suppress his feelings, there was no way to stop himself from crying. He was embarrassed, especially for crying in front of Lance. Of all the people this could've happened in front of, why Lance?

Lance was surprised at the sudden show of emotion from Keith. He didn't realize how much of a toll this had taken on the boy. But then he also realized- Keith was not a man. He was a boy- a teen. And Keith didn't deserve the kind of treatment he was getting. He took the smaller of the two into another embrace and held him, his face burying into Lance's shoulder. He could feel the hot tears making their way through his jacket and he held on tighter.

"Keith," He said quietly. Suddenly Keith backed away from Lance, his expression frightened and raw.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," He rambled. His voice was damp with tears, his eyes rimmed with red. Lance felt sympathy for the boy.

"No, you're alright. I just thought that maybe we should get out of this doorway is all." Lance said. He smiled and took Keith's hand, pulling him into the room. Keith sat on the bed and shed silent tears as Lance pulled his boots off. He was completely done- he didn't want to deal with life anymore. He was but a humble ragdoll, at the mercy of the wonderful Lance McClain.

He looked up at Lance when he draped his jacket over Keith's shoulders. He looked back down and pulled it closer to himself. Lance sat next to him and tugged him into a lying down position.

"You're okay, Keith." Keith shifted so that his head was closer to Lance's chest than his face and curled into that crevice. He was painfully aware of the heat that Lance gave off, and was painfully aware that he was so, so cold. He felt Lance's hand on his back and leaned into that hand. This was serenity. This was peace. And Keith knew that it wasn't going to last very long. Instead of thinking about it, though, he closed his eyes, cuddled up to Lance, and slept.

 

\---

 

Keith awoke to whispered yelling above. He didn't open his eyes, but he listened intently to the quiet voices of Lance and Pidge's argument.

"Why are you on his side?" Pidge.

"Because he's no different!" Lance.

"What makes you think that?" Pidge.

"Keith was always this way. You were always non-binary, right? Just like Keith was always Galra." Lance.

Pidge fell silent. "I guess you're right." They said. "I still don't trust him, though."

"Fair enough," murmured Lance. "As long as you don't wish death upon him."

"You know I would never do that, Lance."

"Just checking."

"I'll talk to the others for you. But for now, keep Keith in here. Allura might just kill him if he comes out."

"Gotcha."

Keith heard footsteps leaving Lance's room, and he chose that moment to sit up. Lance turned back and smiled at Keith, who was pretending to wake up just then.

"'Morning." Said Lance with a grin. Keith's heart thumped out of his chest and he looked down again.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" Lance said. Keith could hear the smirk in his tone and he grinned playfully. Lance was there. He was right there in Keith's life in the moments that nobody else was. He loved Lance- he always had. And he knew when Lance held him that the other loved him back. It was unconditional- what one felt when in the presence of family, or in the presence of a partner. And Keith loved that feeling almost as much as he loved Lance.

"Fuck you." Keith said. He looked up at saw Lance's smile. Broad with pink lips that contrasted starkly against his dark skin. His cheeks were littered with freckles; so many that Keith almost thought that they were stars in constellations. His eyes- Keith loved Lance's eyes. A bright, unwavering blue that were just as the saying goes. Windows into his soul. They were he complete opposite of Keith's, whose gaze was steel against his pale face.

Lance laughed- a melody to Keith's ears -and walked over to sit next to Keith on the bed. Lance felt too close, but Keith liked the warmth he felt next to Lance. For the first time since the blade's trials, he felt a content normalcy. Domestic bliss, as he called it. He sighed and leaned his head onto Lance's shoulder once more. Lance chuckled and looked down at Keith.

"You're pretty cute, you know." Lance said, without missing a beat. Keith's face reddened and he smiled.

"I'm not cute. I'm vicious." Keith said, reaching his hand over to intertwine his fingers with Lance's. Keith's small hand fit perfectly in the large, bony fingers of Lance's hand.

"Not a chance, mullet." Keith felt a light kiss planted on his head and smiled once more. He knew from then on, without even thinking about it, that everything was going to be fine, as long as he had Lance.


	8. Hey, Spidey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is spider-man, Lance is Deadpool. P cute AU if I do say so myself

"Shit, Spidey! Get outta here! This is my goon to fuck up."

"Spidey?"

"Whatever man, just fuck off."

That was Keith's first interaction with the notorious vigilante known as 'Deadpool'. He immediately found the guy annoying, even without knowing him personally. Keith, you see, was a relatively normal boy in his junior year of high school. He took normal classes, had normal aspirations, and did normal highschooler things. Now, you may be wondering where the 'relatively' plays in. When he was eight years old, he was bitten by a radioactive spider on his first grade field trip to a nuclear power plant. About a month after, he began developing special powers. A month after that, both of his parents died. Then, a month after that, he was taken in by a family friend. Now, eight years later, he was known as the Spiderman, a guy with spider-like powers who saves his city from mortal dangers including, but not limited to, alien abductions, guys with bird wings trying to steal from the Iron Man, and guys who beat old ladies to death. That last one was what he was dealing with at the time of his and Deadpool's introduction.

Keith glowered at the other man, who sounded and acted more like a dumb teen, from behind his mask. Who did he think he was, showing up in Keith's turf? And taking the credit for Keith's handiwork just because he was a new and upcoming hero? Wait, Deadpool always specifically said that he wasn't a hero- so why was he acting like one? That pissed Keith off. He just sighed heavily and webbed the goon to a brick wall adjacent from where he was standing.

"It's done," He said, beginning to walk away. "You can go now."

"Come on, man!" Deadpool whined in disappointment. Keith groaned annoyedly. "You could've at least given me a punch or two. Maybe even a slash with my swords?"

Keith eyed the swords that he assumed Deadpool shouldn't be using. "Do you actually know how to use those?"

"Y-yeah! Of course I do!" He sputtered, indignant. Keith shook his head in disbelief and then turned back to Deadpool. He narrowed his eyes, looking the man up and down. His voice and physique reminded Keith of someone, though he couldn't figure out who. It seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, though.

"If you want to be of any help, then take this dumbass to the police station. I've got somewhere to be."

He slung a web to a building and swung away, leaving Deadpool, who was making a huge fuss about the attacker, in his wake.

'What an asshole.' Keith thought. He wondered how someone like that could become so well known. Keith himself didn't even know Deadpool's superpowers. He resolved to forget about the whole thing, as Deadpool wasn't someone he should be taking up the energy to rant about. He needed to get back home quick or he was going to miss his curfew.

He practically flung himself through the open window of his house just as the minute hit nine p.m.

"Cutting it a little close, are we, Keith?" Shiro looked out from the kitchen, where he was washing dishes. Keith flopped onto the lumpy living room couch with a sigh, pulling off his tight mask and throwing it on the side table.

"There was a situation." He said, putting his feet on the table and rubbing his wrists. After slinging webs all day, they were bound to hurt. And they did. Sometimes they bled through his jackets at the worst times, causing some people to think that he cut himself. He didn't, of course, but he learned, from multiple instances like that, to wear red.

"I can tell," Shiro said, back in the kitchen once more. "Your food is in the microwave."

Keith frowned. "Shiro," He held the 'o' sound in a whining tone. "Bring it to me. I'm tired."

"I thought you were Spiderman." Shiro said. Keith groaned at the bad joke, hearing the smirk in his adoptive brother's voice.

\------

 

Keith yawned as he walked into school that next Monday. He'd stayed up all night playing Halo again- why did he do this to himself? Oh yeah- because he was a goddamn teenager. Fuck the system.

He drowsily opened his locker, put his books in, then closed it, only to see the face of the wonderful Lance McClain on the other side. He yelped in surprise, causing the other boy to laugh. Where did he know that voice from, he wondered.

"Morning, Keith," Lance drawled flirtatiously. Lance had been hitting on Keith for two years, with no avail. While Keith was a junior, Lance was a senior, so he was a year older. Not that Lance minded. Keith did, though. He thought Lance was insufferable.

"Shut the fuck up, Lance." He growled. It was far too early to be dealing with Lance's bullshit. He hiked his backpack higher on his shoulders and tried walking off, only to be easily caught up with due to Lance's long legs. Despite the obvious dismissal from Keith, Lance droned on about his weekend and how Hunk ate three pine cones on their camping trip together. All the while, Keith was asking himself where he remembered Lance's voice from. He knew it was from something other than school, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Lance, on the other hand, was extremely perceptive. He knew full well that Keith was the Spiderman. He just wanted to know if Keith was ever going to tell him about it. He knew that voice anywhere, and knew it the minute Keith spoke from behind that mask. Oh. By the way, Lance was Deadpool.

Lance walked into their shared art class for first period. At their school, Juniors and Seniors took elective classes together, and it just so happened that it was in Keith's favorite class that there was his least favorite person. That person being Lance. He sat down at one of the formerly brown tables, which were now covered from corner to corner in paint and grime. They were comforting to Keith. Lance liked to pick at the paint with his polished fingernails.

"Alright, class," A tall man with red hair and a handlebar mustache stood at the front of the room. He addressed them with a smile and a dramatic bow, true to his eccentric personality. "Today we're keeping it easy and doing graded free-draw. Your grade is dependent on how much effort you put in."

People took out their sketchbooks and started drawing, almost instantly getting sidetracked by talking with their friends or doodling. Keith, though, put in his earbuds and drew absentmindedly. He was unaware of Lance's flustered stare at what he was drawing, though, which happened to be him in his suit. Keith was drawing Deadpool. A blush dusted Lance's face at the thought of someone drawing him.

"Keith," Lance called quietly. No answer. "Keith."

Keith couldn't hear him. Either his music was too loud or he wasn't paying any attention to the outside world. Probably both.

"That's me." Lance said, bringing his voice to a whisper. "I'm Deadpool."

No response from Keith. Lance sighed and went back to his own drawing, which turned out to be a Keith-esque merman with a red tail. God, was he smitten.

\------

Lunch, for Keith, was always excruciating. It was always one of two things- he would get the feeling that something wasn't right and would have to leave to check it out. Or he would be subjected to sitting with Lance and his friends. And Keith didn't know which was worse.

"Keith. Keith." Hunk said. Keith had his earbuds in again, though they were playing no music. He could hear everything around him, but he just didn't want anyone to talk with him. People were complicated and annoying overall.

"I don't think he can hear us." Pidge said, pushing her glasses up and knowingly meeting Keith's eyes. Keith was relieved for Pidge. She was the one person who he could tolerate on a daily basis, only because the two were one in the same- awkward, antisocial teens. Though, Pidge was less awkward and more antisocial, and Keith was more of both. So, because of this, they had an odd kinship.

"Well, whatever," Lance said. He put his hand next his mouth secretively. Keith eyed this action suspiciously. What was Lance up to? He frowned and went back to his sketch. "Anyway, did you guys know that Keith is the Spiderman?"

Keith's eyes widened and he stopped sketching for a split second, thinking over what Lance had just said. What? How did Lance know about that? "He'd probably kill me if he knew I was telling you guys this, so please keep quiet about it."

"Pshh- nah. We'd definitely know if Keith was Spiderman. He's one of our friends; wouldn't he tell us?" Hunk said. Lance shook his head. Keith scoffed internally at Hunk's comment. Friends? Keith didn't have friends. Only pests. In his head, that sounded cooler. To anyone else, though, what he said was totally emo.

"Nah, bro. I figured it out after my last run in with the guy, It's definitely Keith." Shit. He'd seen Spiderman, then figured out it was Keith? Impossible. Right? There was no way that Lance could've figured it out just by seeing him. Unless... No. That couldn't be right. Could it?

Keith stood, gave Lance a glare that said, 'Follow me if you don't want to get stabbed,' and said. "I have to go to the bathroom." He walked from the table, Lance following behind sheepishly. Lance looked up at Keith's back with guilt. So Keith had heard, huh? He was definitely going to get chewed out.

"You don't really believe that Keith is the Spiderman, right?" Hunk asked Pidge, looking down at her.

"I'm not sure, actually. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he were, but who knows." Pidge said, adjusting her glasses and putting a finger to her chin in thought.

"Ah, whatever. Back to the real issue here- Ten bucks they're making out in the bathroom."

"I'm down for betting on that."

Keith stalked into the bathroom and spun around on his heel. He pushed up the sleeves on his jacket, showing the bandages he'd applied last night, and practically ran up to Lance, punching him in the face. Hard. Lance, who'd just gotten into the bathroom and wasn't expecting a fight, was thrown back onto the wall with a thud. He slid down and looked up at Keith with a betrayed expression. Keith, however, was absolutely furious.

"Dude!" Lance exclaimed. "What the fuck was that for?"

Keith walked to him and got real close to Lance's face. "It was you?"

Lance looked back, confused. Well, he wasn't really confused. He was just playing dumb. "It was me... what?"

"Don't you play dumb, asshole!" Oof, he saw throught Lance's ploy. "You! You're the Deadpool?" Keith said, jabbing a finger into Lance's chest. Lance furrowed his brows in determination. If he was going to fight Keith, he was going to do it with dignity. What did he have to lose, anyway? He couldn't die; anything that would hurt a normal person just healed within seconds. Though, he doubted he would win in a fight against Keith.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"You- you- you... you fucking prick!" Keith yelled. He was so pissed. He didn't know why, but he was. Maybe because Lance spilled his secret. Maybe because Lance annoyed him the day before. Maybe because he knew this already and was just ignoring it. Maybe because Lance forced him to acknowledge the truth.

Lance put his hands up cautiously. "Dude! Shut up! We're gonna get a referral from the hall moniter!"

Keith seethed. How could Lance say that when they were in the middle of a goddamn conversation? "Fucking make me." He spat, backing away from Lance. He was ready to fucking go. He would take Lance right here right now, and he would fucking win.

The room was quiet for a moment before Lance stood and roughly pushed Keith onto the tile wall. Keith 'oof'ed when he came in contact with the hard surface and then looked up at Lance. His eyes, deep blue and cavernous, looked cloudy with uncertainty and lust. He had no idea what Lance was planning, but he would go along with it as long as those eyes were involved- no! What was Keith saying? He wouldn't ever comply with Lance's desires. He hated the guy, anyway. Actually, that wasn't all that true.

"You asked for it, Spidey." Lance whispered, his voice gravelly and deep. Keith swallowed the lump in his throat. He grew anxious with each stagnant second. What was Lance planning to do? Suddenly, a pair of lips crashed against his own; like an ocean. An ocean... Lance? Lance was kissing him? A million thoughts ran through his head at once, overpowered by Lance's soft lips moving in rhythm with his own. He struggled for a moment before surrendering himself to Lance, letting him take the lead. He hadn't known how much he wanted this until he had it. He wrapped his arms around Lance's neck and stood on his toes, leaning deeper into the kiss. It turned from harsh and forceful to rhythmic and passionate. Keith realized something in those seconds. He grew more restless, more desperate, more needy for Lance's love. Lance's kiss was like an ocean that Keith wanted to swim in for eternity. Keith would be glad to do anything- absolutely anything -as long as Lance was there.

They broke apart after a couple seconds, both panting and red. Then, they realized what had just transpired and quickly stepped away from each other. Keith grazed his fingertips over his dry, cracked lips. Lance had kissed him. Lance Mc-FUCKING-Clain had kissed Keith on his goddamn lips.

Lance, meanwhile, was freaking out. He actually just did that. He thought that only characters in shitty fanfiction did that. And yet, here he stood, a character in a shitty fanfiction, who fucking did that shit.

He turned to Keith, who stood with his back facing Lance. He faltered. "Uh-"

"I should go." Keith mumbled. He toyed with the hems of his jacket and quickly walked out of the bathroom. Lance ran after him. "Keith! Wait! I'm sorry!"

Keith just kept walking.

\-----

Lance was worried. He hadn't seen Keith for the past week, and he knew that the kiss probably had something to do with it. Lance didn't know whether Keith was ignoring him or just not coming to school, but nevertheless, he was concerned.

'He wrapped his arms around Lance's neck, leaning into the kiss...'

Lance shook his head, banishing the thought from his head. Still, though, the feeling of Keith's cracked lips meeting his felt fresh in his mind; the places where Keith's calloused fingers had grazed tingled, lingering hot on the skin. He shivered. Those hands. Those lips. Those eyes- slate and shining, staring into his own in shock. He could melt in those eyes. But he knew that Keith was probably pissed at him. Lance did kiss him without consent, after all.

Lance sighed and took a bite of his disgusting school cafeteria burger and went on with his day.

Meanwhile, Keith had a dilemma.

He sat at the table behind Lance's, locking eyes with Pidge every once in a while, having mind-telepathy with her to tell her to shut the fuck up about him being here. Pidge seemed to understand his troubles, therefore reassuring Keith in her reliability.

Keith took a slow bite of his food in thought. Lance kissed him. Lance kissed him. While this may have been a problem in itself, the real concern was that Keith had a humongous crush on Lance that he knew wasn't reciprocated. Of course, he didn't know this until the kiss, and he forced his brain to hate the very person he actually liked. He'd always wondered why the flirtatious comments from Lance had internally made him smile. And, as said earlier, he'd known the feelings were unrequited, since Lance tended to flirt with anything that breathed. But in that moment, the kiss allowed Keith to entertain the notion that Lance actually may have had some sort of attraction towards Keith. He shook his head. Of course not! Lance must've had some sort of reason behind kissing Keith, right? Yes, of course he did. And even so, the memory of the kiss lingered, taking control of his entire body and chilling him to the bone.

'Suddenly, a pair of lips crashed against his own; like an ocean. An ocean... Lance? Lance was kissing him? A million thoughts ran through his head at once, overpowered by Lance's soft lips moving in rhythm with his own. He struggled for a moment before surrendering himself to Lance, letting him take the lead...'

Keith's face went red. He shouldn't think this way. No, he couldn't bear to think this way. Keith wasn't up to par, compared to Lance. He could never get onto Lance's level. Lance was just too out of his league. He was older, prettier, smarter. He was happier, more excitable, more including. Lance's personality was an entity within itself, almost alive. Breathing. And Keith was just the opposite. So, he dismissed the thought of ever dating Lance, without even knowing why it was so inconceivable.

——

That night, Lance found Keith sitting on a building, his feet dangling off the edge. The stars were out, and everything was quiet. Lance stood behind Keith, watching blobs of smoke from Keith's cigarette floating listlessly into the atmosphere. It twirled and danced to a nonexistent melody, disappearing from view with the breeze. Lance sighed, catching Keith's attention. Lance could see the visible tense in Keith's entire body. Keith put his cigarette out on the cement ledge on which he sat. Lance walked up and sat down next to Keith. Keith looked out still, not meeting Lance's eyes; everything was quiet once more.

"What if I were to jump right now?" 

Lance looked at Keith whose eyes portrayed a sense of sadness and yet at the same time, a sense of hope. Lance frowned at the statement and looked back out onto the New York skyline. 

"Then I would break your fall." Lance said, looking back at his friend. Keith furrowed his eyebrows and looked down silently. The two sat, side by side for a moment before Keith laid back, looking at the stars. Lance followed suit.

"These days, I can only remember the constellations that begin with the letter L," Keith half whispered. He put his hand to the sky. "Lepus, Lynx, Leo, Libra, Lyra, Lupus, Lacerta." He pointed out each one, articulating each word quietly, as if talking to himself. Lance watched Keith's face, his beautiful slate eyes glimmering as they mirrored the stars above. Keith met Lance's gaze. "I think that's your fault, Lance." Keith murmured. His eyes held an unknown emotion that Lance felt and knew but couldn't identify. 

"I'm not sorry." Lance whispered.

"That's okay." Keith said, looking back up. Keith's face was lax, uncaring. So different than how he usually was- serious; grim, even. He was stoic and hardheaded, and now he was as serene as the night sky during the summer.

"Lance?" Keith said, a questioning tone to his voice. Lance turned his head and hummed.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Lance was expecting this question. He was not, however, expecting Keith to be so calm about it. He had no doubt that Keith was mad, but he realized that Keith was holding back to save their relationship, which Lance, before then, didn't know existed. 

"Because I like you." Lance mumbled. Keith frowned deeply.

"Why do you say things like that, Lance?" Keith quietly hissed. Lance was surprised by the hostility in Keith's tone. He thought that Keith was trying to be civil, but he was wrong. Lance, though, was unruffled.

"Because I like you." He said. Keith looked Lance dead in the eye. Keith was conflicted. He didn't want to believe what Lance said, but he found himself swept up in Lance's gaze. He was afraid- he didn't want to be hurt, didn't want to drown. But, nevertheless, the water that Lance'd stole from the ocean for eyes overwhelmed him, sending him reeling into Lance's arms. 

"No you don't." 

"Yes, I do." 

Keith scowled, but shifted closer to Lance until their shoulders touched. Lance raised his eyebrows in shock. 

"Do you really mean that, Lance?"

"Yes, I do." Lance muttered, aware of every movement that Keith made. Keith put his head on Lance's shoulder, cuddling into his side closely. 

"Okay," He murmured, closing his eyes and breathing deep. "That's okay." 

Lance smiled. This was bliss- absolute bliss. "I like you, Spidey." 

Lance felt a small smile from Keith on his shoulder. "I like you too, Deadpool."


	9. Sorry, if it's a Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of these are short as fuck yeet sorry not sorry  
> Lance takes care of Keith after he trains too hard, but learns something about the two's relationship in the process.

Lance was awoken by a soft knocking at his door. He groaned and sat up, looking at his watch. It was late. Really late. Almost five in the morning, to be precise. And Lance knew already who was outside. It happened frequently, and Lance had grown accustomed to it. It had become a part of everyday life for Lance, however much he didn't like it. He stood, stretching, and trudged to the door. He heard a light panting from the other side. He narrowed his eyes and opened the door. Keith looked up suddenly, his eyes showing reservation and discomfort. He looked away, down to his shoes. He shuffled sheepishly in the hallway, little droplets of blood falling from cuts and landing on the floor with a drip. Lance frowned.   
"You've gone too far again, haven't you?"

Keith crossed his arms, looking to the right. "I'm..." He uncrossed his arms and grimaced. He looked back at Lance pleadingly. "'M sorry if 'm asking for too much." He muttered, his voice raspy and strained. Lance sighed and stepped aside, letting Keith in. This had become a nightly occurrence for Lance, ever since Shiro banned Keith from the training hall. He'd been doing it at night as to avoid Shiro's scolding, but it always fell to Lance to clean Keith up and force him to perform basic human functions, like eating or sleeping.   
He sat Keith on the bed and, taking note of how exhausted his boyfriend looked, quickly left for their bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out gauze. Every night, he would wonder why Alteans even needed medicine cabinets, as they could just go into the healing pods whenever they needed to mend a cut or bruise. At first, he also wondered why Keith couldn't just be stuck in the pods for an hour after training. The pods recorded logs of whoever was in them, and worse, Keith could build up an immunity to the pod's healing properties, thereby leaving him helpless when he needed a real injury healed. He sighed and grabbed the peroxide, which was already on the counter. Lance frowned. He knew that peroxide wasn't the best thing to put on wounds, as they dried the area out and made it harder for the cut to scab over. He wouldn't be using it in the first place, but he'd run out of the Aloe-like cream that he'd been using for Keith the night before. He hoped that they would go to a space-mall soon, seeing as he needed new stuff for his face masks and would like to get more medicinal products for Keith.

He walked out of the bathroom, smiling at Keith as he did. Keith looked up, his eyes practically dead, and gave Lance a wry smile in return. Lance sat next to Keith on the bed and turned Keith to face him. He took his right hand first, inspecting how Keith's knuckles were raw and bleeding.   
"You did hand-to-hand today? I thought you said that you were going to be taking a break from that this week?"

"It's Sunday," He said, blinking tiredly. "It's a new week."  
Lance sighed and took a towel, putting some peroxide onto it. He looked at Keith warily. "This is going to hurt a bit." He muttered, dabbing the towel to Keith's knuckles. The red paladin yelped at first but quickly got used to it, only cringing slightly when the towel came into contact with the raw skin. Lance wrapped Keith's hand when he was done, then repeated the process with Keith's left hand. Keith rested his head on Lance's shoulder as he did so, allowing Lance to tend to his wounds in silence. Lance finished with Keith's hands and forearms relatively quickly- he was, contrary to popular belief, pretty good in first aid. He would always be the one to tend to his younger siblings injuries, big or small.   
Lance had to half-wake Keith when he was done, shaking him gently to get him to sit up straight. "I have to do your face, babe." Keith hummed in reply and closed his eyes again, waiting for Lance to put the towel to his face.

Keith's head started to droop as Lance was getting the peroxide ready. "Look up, Keith. Up," He said, taking Keith's chin and pushing it up. "A ver, a ver; Ah, there we go. Thanks, babe." Keith hummed again and kept his eyes closed. "I need you to take off your shirt and turn around. I need to do your chest and back before we go to bed."

"Can't we just sleep now?" Keith mumbled, resting his head on Lance's shoulder once more and wrapping his arms around Lance's neck. Lance chuckled and unwrapped himself from his boyfriend, scooting back a bit.   
"You have no idea how much I'd love to sleep right now. But if we don't take care of your cuts now, they're gonna get infected, and if they get infected, you could get super sick. And if you get super sick, Shiro's gonna find out that you've been training secretly."   
Actually, Lance was pretty sure that Shiro already knew about the night training. He surely would've noticed Keith's sudden tiredness in the mornings after telling him to chill. The black paladin must have known that you couldn't keep something that Keith wanted away from him. He would find a way to get it, good or bad. Plus, Shiro was pretty perceptive.

Keith grumbled and sat up straight, opening his eyes a bit to take off his shirt. He let Lance look at the front of his chest which, to be completely honest, wasn't that bad. He patched it up quickly and turned Keith around, gasping slightly. There were too many cuts, too many bruises. Too many for it to be safe, anyway.

"What level did you get to?"

Keith hummed in thought for a moment, then mumbled his answer. Lance furrowed his brows.   
"What?"

"Level eighteen. I think that's why 'm so beat up.

Lance huffed. Keith was insatiable. "First of all, it's beaten, babe." Keith rolled his eyes. "Regardless, that's super dangerous, Keith. Maybe you should take a break, like Shiro said." He scolded his boyfriend, hearing a small scoff in response. Lance frowned.   
"I don't need to relax. I need to train." Keith muttered, a scowl adorning his face.

"I'm serious, Keith. You need to take into account your health and your limits." Lance put some perozide on the towel and gently put the towel to one of Keith's biggest cuts, cringing when Keith hissed in pain through grit teeth. "I'm sorry. Lo siento mucho, mi cielito, mi cariño, mi alma, el amor de mi vida, lo siento muy."

He whispered apologies in Spanish to Keith, not really realizing that he'd slipped back into his native language until Keith looked at him with confusion. Lance gave him a sheepish grin and wrapped Keith's entire middle with the white gauze, being careful not to hurt him. "I'm done, babe. Put your shirt back on."

"I mean," Lance began, putting the gauze and peroxide onto the nightstand. "Shiro does have a point. I know you've been restless since you came back from the blade, but that's no reason to mutilate yourself like you've been doing. Maybe you should take a break." Keith frowned and slowly put his shirt back on, looking away from Lance. Lance sighed.   
"We can talk about this tomorrow," Lance said, taking Keith's hand and pulling him down to lay with him. "Right now, you should sleep." Keith smiled back and looked into Lance's eyes. Lance'd always thought that Keith's eyes were so pretty. They weren't quite grey, but they also weren't quite blue. Lance thought the color was called slate, but he couldn't be sure. If it was, though, that was the color of Keith's eyes.

"When do you think Shiro's gonna start letting me train normally again?" He mumbled drowsily, his eyes drooping with every word he spoke. Lance smiled and ran a hand through Keith's hair. "I don't know," Lance murmured, pulling Keith a little closer. "Soon, I hope."

"Hm," Keith hummed quietly. "What would I do without you, Ninja Sharpshooter?"

"I don't know," Lance chuckled. "Die, probably." Keith smiled and closed his eyes, losing the fight against sleep fairly quickly. Lance tucked Keith's dark hair behind his ear as the red paladin slept, wondering how something so defensive could suddenly be so vulnerable. Lance hadn't ever seen Keith like this with anyone else. The closest thing to their relationship that Lance'd seen was Keith's and Shiro's relationship, which was exclusively brotherly. Other than that, Keith would rant to Lance more than he would even speak to the rest of the team. What they had was special, and Lance didn't want to give it up. Not for anything.

He laid there for a while, trying to find sleep for himself, but found that his dreams were light with restlessness. He would look down and see that Keith's dreams were plagued too, as they most always were. He would hum melodies near-silently, effectively soothing Keith's nightmares and giving him something to do. But it just wasn't enough. He was restless; bored. He slowly stood from the bed, careful not to wake Keith, and left the room.

"Lance?" He jumped at the whispered voice and turned around, sighing when he saw Pidge standing a little ways down the hall. He smiled at her and walked towards her, half hiding the blood that he'd forgotten to wipe away and half wanting to speak with her. Though she was the only other one who knew about the whole Keith issue, he didn't want her to worry about their friend. That was the last thing she needed.  
"It's pretty late for you to be up. Keith again?"   
He chuckled and nodded, joining her on her walk to the kitchen. "What about you?" He asked, putting his hands in his sweat-pant pockets. "What are you doing up so late?"

"First of all, this is early for me," She said, giving him a jovial grin. "Second, I was working on some new additions to the training deck. Some safety features and some new modes. The works."

Lance scoffed. "Keith sure is gonna love that." He said, grinning back at her. She laughed, sitting at the table while Lance made them both tea. They sobered, staying silent for a couple minutes while Lance steeped their tea.  
"You really do like him, don't you?" She asked, putting her head in her arms and staring at him with a knowing smile on her face. His face flushed and he walked back with their two mugs, setting them down and taking a sip of his. He smiled back and fingered the rim of his mug.   
"Yeah," He said. "Yeah, I really do." 

She smiled at looked down at her tea. "That's good, because he likes you too."

"Yeah," He said. "I know." He smiled to himself and looked at his own tea, which was swirling around in the container. He took a sip of the much-too-hot beverage and hissed, his tongue getting a bit burnt. He got used to it after a couple more sips and began to enjoy the bittersweet taste of chamomile. It was relaxing and he could feel the tension he had in his muscles melting away.   
"Be careful," She said, meeting Lance's eyes after a moment. "He may put up a tough front, but he really does care a lot. He's like this cup. It seems hard and invincible from the outside, but when you drop it, it's broken until you can find some glue. Don't need to find him some glue, Lance. He's strong, but you need to be careful." Lance smiled sadly and looked away, taking another sip of his tea.

"I know."

She leaned back against her chair and inspected Lance. He seemed tired. That wasn't surprising, though, considering the late nights he'd had to pull. If Lance was this exhausted, she couldn't imagine what Keith would be like the next morning. She pulled a silent chuckle at the thought and drank the rest of her tea, putting the mug in the sink. "I'm going to bed now, and you should too. At least get a couple hours worth of sleep, man. You can't run on none, and I would know."  
He grinned and followed her lead, downing the rest of his chamomile and putting his blue mug in the sink next to her green one. They walked out of the kitchen and parted ways at the room hallway, bidding each other goodnight.

Lance went into his room, treading lightly so as not to wake Keith. This didn't work, however, because Keith heard the door close and awoke, half sitting up. "Lance?" He murmured as Lance got back into bed.  
"Yeah," Lance said, cuddling back up to Keith and smiling, running his hands through his boyfriend's hair. "Go back to sleep, babe. I'm right here." Keith hummed in acknowledgement and fell back asleep, clinging onto Lance for dear life. Lance then closed his own eyes and thought about his and Pidge's conversation. He ended up changing his thoughts to ones about his family, or the stars, or his friends back on Earth. He missed Earth, yet didn't want to go back again. He knew that Keith hated Earth with a burning passion, and knew that his whole family was fine and would be fine in the foreseeable future. He couldn't help but worry about them, though. But, as he thought, he realized that his memories were happy and his questions of whether or not they knew he was alive turned into whether or not they were happy without him. That made him smile and curl up into Keith a little tighter.


	10. I knoOWWW UR STEALIN (my heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance, a prince, wakes up to a thief roaming about his room, but instead of shooting him with the pistol he had in his nightstand (which probably would have been the better choice), he lets the thief go free. The next day, the thief returns,

Lance woke up to feet padding around his room. He opened his eyes, but didn't move. The drapes falling around him shimmered in the light of the moon. The light of the moon? That had to mean that his window was open. But why? His mind fell on the feet. Who was that? He sat up in bed, leaning forward and lightly pulling open the sheer draping that hung, seeing nothing but a dark figure quietly rummaging through a chest in the corner of his room. So it was a thief. Lance'd had many an experience with thieves. He slowly moved his hand to his nightstand, in which sat a small pistol. He made sure that the thief didn't hear him before he suddenly yanked open the drawer and grabbed the gun. The thief looked up, only to flinch back as the barrel of a pistol was pushed between his eyes.

"Hello there," Lance said. He smirked and cocked the gun, the sound of it filling the close to silent room. "Now, what are you doing in this part of town?"

The other man narrowed his eyes. His eyes were the only thing of him Lance could see, as a mask covered the rest of his face. It didn't hide the tell-tale ridged ears that all human Hybrids shared, though. Lance internally grimaced in disgust. Filthy beings, those Hybrids, he thought. He wasn't surprised that one of them was stealing from him. But he also knew that Hybrids could be dangerous. He pushed the gun closer to the thief.

Lance let his smile fall, changing his face into one of bored annoyance. "Who are you? Why are you in my room?"

The man slowly put his wrapped hands up. Lance eyed them, noticing the yellowed bandages and the state of his tattered red tunic. A red tunic, huh? Lance thought to himself. That was one of the more expensive dyes. How would a petty thief be able to get his hands on a red tunic?

Lance blinked, then sighed and lowered his gun. The thief's eyes widened in surprise.

"Go. Leave. Take whatever's in your pockets and run. I won't turn you in."

The man's hands lowered. He looked shocked. His eyes, slate and shining, were unreadable but conflicted. He finically seemed to come to a decision and stood, putting his hands at his sides. He bowed deeply in thanks, then walked to the window and jumped on the ledge, looking back at Lance. Lance noticed the thief's garb- a sleeveless red tunic and legging-esque pants that reached to his feet and wrapped around his arch. It was an unusual outfit, especially to see in Altea. The clothing looked light, like it was meant for someone nimble, for someone who ran. The man leaned on the side of the window and pulled a ring off his finger. He tossed it to Lance then promptly jumped from the window to the rooftops below, running along them to make his escape. Lance, albeit fumbling, caught it and looked up with the same kind of shock that the thief looked at him with just minutes before. By then, though, he man was gone. He sat in bed for a short while, turning the ring over in his hand. He finally shook the initial surprise of the thief's reaction and looked down to his palm, where his ring sat.

Lance lifted the ring to the light. A simple gold band with a single small ruby planted on the top. He frowned and laid back down. He put the ring on his pinky, as it was the only finger that the ring could fit on. He twisted it around, inspecting it. Just who was that thief?

—

"You just let the thief go? Are you fucking kidding me?" Lance took a bite of his breakfast, ignoring the voice of Hunk, his best friend and the head of his team of guards.

"It's fine, Hunk. He didn't take much. Probably just some gold and silver. It's not a big deal."

"And you're saying he was a Hybrid?"

"Yes, Hunk."

"Then why didn't you stop him? You know you could've. All you had to do was use your pistol!"

Lance munched on his toast silently. He knew he should've stopped the thief. He was the sole heir to the Altean throne, for Pete's sake. But he always did this. Let thieves go. That's how he met Pidge, his Avian threat-spotter, anyway. She was there stealing gadgets from Lance's lab. He caught her and let her go, only to find her standing sheepishly at his doorstep the next morning. He huffed, leaning his head on his hand.

"I didn't want to kill some civilian. Is that what kings do, Hunk? Kill everyone who's just trying to get by?"

Hunk sighed and sat down next to Lance, putting one of his large hands on his shoulder. "I'm not asking you to kill civilians, Lance. I'm just trying to say that you need to be able to defend yourself when someone truly dangerous comes. You need to stop letting people go."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Can I please eat the rest of my eggs?" Hunk looked at Lance as if he were unconvinced for a moment, then looked away.

"Okay. Tell me if it ever happens again. I'll see you later." Hunk put his hand on Lance's back as he left and gave him a smile. Lance returned it and went back to his breakfast.

Who was that thief last night? Lance could figure some things out just by his look- a male Hybrid of considerable strength, standing at around 5'4. He seemed young, and it was somewhat hard to discern the thief's gender at first, due to his naturally narrowed eyes and longer hair. But other than that, he had grayish eyes and bandaged up arms. He had to be foreign, for the sole reason that none of Lance's country's customs included bowing. The ring that Lance wore on his pinky was obviously not made in Altea, as they were a country that specializes in the trade of necklaces and bracelets. You would rarely ever see rings on the fingers of Alteans; that's how Lance knew that the thief was a foreigner.

He stabbed his plate with the fork searching for eggs. He looked down, seeing the plate empty. He stood and ran and hand through his hair. He needed to snap out of it. He had things to do, had responsibilities as a prince.

He slapped his face and shook himself out. He then straightened his posture and walked down the hallway that led to the lab.

He barely got three steps in before Pidge tumbled through a window, hitting the wall with a thud. She coughed and struggled to stand, holding her shoulder and looking out the window in half fear, half hatred. Lance gasped and took a step back.

A man jumped through the window after her and pinned her to the wall. He grabbed a knife from a strap on his thigh and held it to her neck. Her wings shifted uncomfortably behind her as she stared at him silently. She slid her gaze to the right, where Lance stood frozen in place. Her face suddenly showed a sign of relief. "Lance," she said, her voice hoarse. "Lance, kill it! Kill the Hybrid before it kills me!"

The man looked at Lance with murder in his eyes. The attitude suddenly shifted when he saw that it was Lance, though and he stepped away from Pidge as fast as he jumped onto her. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and looking up at the offender in shock. Lance, who was staring at the now subdued man, was just then realizing that the man was the thief from the night before.

"It's you!" Lance exclaimed. Pidge flung her head to Lance.

"You know this thing?" She growled, slowly standing up and ruffling her wings. Lance gulped and put a hand on the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Yeah," He mumbled. "He was that thief who got into my room last night."

"The one that you let get away?"

"Yeah."

Pidge groaned and rolled her eyes. The man looked down at her curiously, as if he weren't attacking her just a second ago. He was without a mask this time, and Lance could see the youth in his face. He couldn't be any older than Lance, maybe six or seventeen.

Pidge looked at Lance expectantly. "So... what do you want me to do? There's a murderous Hybrid standing in the castle. Do you want me to imprison it or something?"

Lance could see the flicked of hurt in the Hybrid's eyes at the thought of imprisonment. He sighed. "No. I'll deal with the situation myself."

Pidge raised her eyebrows. Lance huffed exasperatedly. "I won't let him go again, if that's what you're worried about." He said.

Pidge crossed her arms and looked around, seemingly at odds with herself. She finally sighed in resignation and threw her arms up. "Fine. Deal with it. I'm going to deal with this security breach." She turned on her heel and stalked down the hall.

The man turned and stared at Lance, who looked him up and down. "Who are you?"

The man opened his mouth, then closed it as if unsure. He frowned and slid his hand along the width of his chest, a motion that told Lance that the man was from Galra, a country that shunned any form of verbal speaking. Lance's hard gaze softened at the teen's timidness.

"You can speak here, you know." Lance said. The man shook his head and pulled a pen and parchment from a satchel strapped to his hip.

'My name is Keith. I am a Druid Hybrid and I've come from Galra. I am indebted to you.' He wrote against the wall and in very formal English- showing that it wasn't his first language- the language used in most countries at the time. He gave the parchment to Lance, who read it with a confused frown.

"Indebted?"

The man nodded and made a move toward Lance, who stepped back in uncertainty. Keith blinked and smiled slightly, as if he were telling Lance that he wasn't going to hurt him. Lance allowed Keith to walk closer and take his hand, gesturing to the ring on his pinky.

Keith took the paper back and wrote, "I will protect you with my life." Lance raised an eyebrow.

"Your life?"

"It is a natural part of Galra Customs to protect the life of the one who has saved you."

"Oh really?"

Keith nodded. Lance frowned. He recalled the night before, when Keith had been stealing from his room. He may of let the thief go, but he sure as hell didn't save Keith's life. Perhaps letting him go instead of turning him in and probably watching him get hanged saved his life. He didn't know enough about Keith to trust him yet, and he couldn't be sure whether Keith was lying in order to steal more from him. He also didn't like the look in Keith's face when he attacked Pidge- he'd need to ask about that.

"Well then, if you're going to be my protector, you'll have to be able to speak with me."

Keith's eyes widened. He scribbled something down. "But that is disrespectful! I cannot."

"Then you're not my guardian."

Keith bit his lip and looked down. He tapped his foot and looked around. The same conflict as the night prior sat heavily in his eyes. Lance had to admit that the foreigner was attractive, standing there with his tunic and bare feet. Lance wondered what the bandages were for, though.

Keith sighed and averted his eyes, seemingly thinking about it. He tapped his foot and submitted, writing something down. "Give me some time."

Lance smiled. "That's fair."

—

"First you let him go, now he's your bodyguard? This is unheard of!"

"But not illegal."

"Yes it is!"

"Whatever."

Lance sat in a chair in the dining room, Keith sitting next to him. He looked down respectfully, his long, ridged ears twitching at his mention. Hunk paced at the opposite end, ranting about Lance's actions.

"That thing attacked Pidge!"

Lance scowled. Hunk didn't know the full story. Keith'd honestly written out what happened for Lance, just to say that Keith didn't do anything unprovoked.

"First of all, Keith is not a thing. He's a human, albeit only halfway. And second of all, Pidge attacked first. Keith may be a somewhat violent person from what I've seen, but he doesn't seem like someone who would start fights."

Keith nodded at that, looking quickly back down when he got a hard glare from Hunk.

"Com'on, Hunk. Give the guy a chance. You didn't like Pidge when I first allowed her in, right? Give Keith some time."

Hunk frowned and sighed, giving in. "Fine," He said, walking out of the room. He stopped in the doorway. "When you get killed at the hands of some murderous Hybrid, I'll set up your funeral."

Lance chuckled. Hunk left the room, leaving the two in the kitchen. Lance looked at Keith, who looked back at him, but not in the eye. Lance realized that Keith hadn't looked him in the eye once since they met. But they met very recently, so Lance was probably just imagining things.

Throughout the day, Keith accompanied Lance. Wherever he went, Keith tagged along. While Lance was sorting state taxes, Keith sat next to him and watched silently. When Lance was being fitted for some new clothing, Keith sat and watched silently, his gray eyes following the white measuring tape.

Keith ate lunch and dinner with Lance. Lance found that Keith didn't eat much- he ate maybe half of both his meals then didn't touch the rest. Lance wondered if Keith was always like this.

At the end of the day, Lance went back into the workroom and wrote out some trading requests. Some were for food, some for jewelry. They all were great for the country's economy, though, and it excites him that he was able to do this.

He put down his pen and admired the many papers splayed across his desk. He smiled- he wouldn't have to work much tomorrow because of how much he'd done. He'd be able to sleep in and hang out with Hunk and spend more time getting to know Keith.

Wait. Keith. Lance looked to his side to see Keith, sitting in that same chair still, trying and sort of failing not to fall asleep. Lance stood, grabbing Keith's attention. The Hybrid went to grab for his parchment and pen, but Lance put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Keith looked back up to see Lance's soft smile directed towards him.

"You can talk now. It's only me."

Keith grimaced and shook his head, taking the parchment and quill. 'I'm sorry,' He wrote. 'I cannot. Not yet.'   
Lance frowned, but nodded and led the younger teen out of the room, into a corridor that held rooms.   
"Would you like your own room? We have a lot of extra ones."  
Keith looked surprised, but shook his head. He took out his parchment and pen again, writing against the wall. Lance couldn't help but think that all that writing must be pretty tedious for the hybrid boy, but said nothing on the issue. 'If I was able to get into your room as easily as I did, with all due respect, I think I should sleep near you."

Lance sighed and smiled at Keith. "I guess that makes sense. I can bring you a futon and a comforter, if you want. It gets kinda cold at night."

He shook his head. 'I will be fine without.'

Lance raised an eyebrow but decided not to push, nodding and guiding Keith to his room. They walked in and Lance went into his bathroom, changing quickly and leaving. He offered Keith a change of clothes too- it looked like the guy was wearing the same thing as he had the night before. He probably was. Keith declined at first, but Lance pushed it and, like Hunk, he gave in. He changed in the bathroom and walked out, looking kind of uncomfortable. He kept his satchel on his waist.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Lance asked, sitting on his bed and waiting for Keith to pick a spot and sleep there. Keith smiled and shook his head, seemingly not wanting to bother with taking out his parchment and writing something down. He walked to the window and stretched his arms, stepping up onto the sill.   
"Where are you going?" Lance stood, confused. Keith turned and looked at him questioningly. "Why are you at the window?"

Keith chuckled, and Lance could hear glimpses of his voice. It was deeper, rough and unused, but sounded pretty; pretty and soft. His heart raced and Keith looked back at him and gave him another smile. Without answering, Keith jumped from the sill. Lance sped to the window to make sure Keith was okay, looking left and seeing Keith hanging upside down from a rusty iron bar that jutted out from the building. He grinned at Lance and laughed again, swinging himself up onto the roof above. He gave Lance one last humored look before walking up onto it and laying down. Lance watched this and gaped for a moment.   
He stuck his head back into his room when a cold breeze gave him chills. He shivered and walked over to his bed, laying down and covering up. He put his hand to the light and eyed the ring. He still hadn't asked Keith about it- he must have forgotten. He sighed and rolled over, turning himself to the window. Just who was that kid?

\---

A couple days later, Lance woke up, once more, to feet padding throughout his room. This time, though, it wasn't a surprise. Keith walked through his room, taking laundry that Hunk had probably washed and folding it, putting it in drawers. Keith sat down with a large heap of the clean clothing and hummed to himself, not aware of Lance's stare on his back.   
Lance laid back down as quietly as he could, as not to draw suspicion to himself. He didn't want Keith to know he was awake- he wanted to hear Keith's voice. He opened his mouth and softly sang something in his native language. It was lovely. 

There was a knock at the door, startling both of them. Keith stood and walked over to the door, opening it and greeting Hunk silently. Hunk whispered to him in a hushed tone, probably trying not to wake an already-awake Lance. Lance lay there quietly, waiting for what seemed like the right time to wake up. The door closed and Keith walked back into the room, sitting on the ground once more. He began to hum again, and Lance felt that it was okay to wake up right then.   
"Keith? Is that you?" He mocked the sleep-voice, sitting up and yawning. Keith swiveled his head around so fast that Lance thought he was going to get whiplash. Keith's entire face was beet red and his hands seemed to grip the shirts a little tighter. Lance raised an eyebrow at this and ran a hand through his hair, standing and stretching.   
Lance tried to meet Keith's eyes and the Hybrid looked away, frantically folding shirts like it was the last thing he would do. Lance smiled fondly and yawned again, standing. He walked over to his bathroom, aware of Keith's eyes boring into him. 

He closed the door and sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. His face was blushed a deep red and his eyes were sparkling with happiness. He was happy? Yes. He didn't recall being that happy in quite a long time. He put his hands to his face and laughed softly to himself.   
He carried out his daily hygienic duties and left again, seeing that Keith had calmed down and had resumed folding the shirts.   
"Good morning." Lance said, sitting on the bed and watching Keith work. Keith turned to him and smiled a bit, nodding his greeting. "Do you want to go for breakfast?" Keith nodded again, but held up a finger to tell him 'one second'. It seemed as if Keith couldn't be bothered to write his words down. Keith finished folding that pile of shirts and stood, brushing himself off. They left, Keith trailing behind Lance.   
"Did you sleep well?" Keith responded with another nod.  
"Were you too cold?" A shake of the head.  
"Why, though?" A shrug and an almost unnoticeable, mysterious smile. Lance frowned slightly and turned back. They walked on and reached the dining room, where Hunk gave him and Keith a bright smile. Lance raise his eyebrow. When had these two become friends?

"Good morning, you two." Hunk walked in from the attached kitchen and handed Lance a plate of breakfast. "Keith, what do you want?" Keith went for his parchment, but Hunk gave him a look. He pouted slightly, then raised his hands and made an unsure motion, his face turning pink.  
"That looked about right. Just remember that it's all one, smooth movement." Keith nodded at him. Lance raised an eyebrow at Hunk, who smiled back at him.   
"I tried to teach Keith some sign this morning."

"Sign?"

"Yeah, a while ago a lot of Galrans used to do import-export style trade with us. Because they couldn't just write everything down, as that would take too long, they made a language based off their own that made use of their hands. They called it 'sign'. I learned it a while ago and I'm gonna teach Keith."

Lance looked at Keith with that same raised eyebrow and Keith smiled uncomfortably, nodding. "Well, what did he say?"

"Eggs."

"Oh."

After, they ate in silence. Lance finished and checked the time.  
"Eight? That's pretty early. I don't even have any work today- what to do?"

He looked to Keith, who shrugged. "Why don't you two go into town? I hear that the townspeople are making preparations for the fair that's going on." Hunk said. Keith looked up quickly, his eyes screaming 'no'. Then he looked back down at his half-empty plate. Hunk frowned.

"That sounds fun. Keith, are you down?" Keith looked to Lance and gave him a weak smile, nodding. Hunk frowned even deeper. What was Keith hiding? "Alright then! Let's get dressed. It'll give me an opportunity to get out of the castle, too." Lance stood and left the room, Keith in tow, but when they were almost out of the room, Hunk grabbed Keith's shoulder. Keith turned with a questioning glance.

"What's with you and the town?" Keith looked away and shrugged. Hunk leaned back and sighed.  
"Are you okay with going?" Keith nodded, still not meeting Hunk's eyes.   
"Are you sure?"  
A nod, albeit unsure. Hunk sighed again and allowed Keith to leave, watching him as he jogged to catch up with Lance. Keith was so mysterious. Hunk just hoped that he wasn't dangerous.

\---

"I haven't been to town in so long! I can't wait to see the people." Lance pulled on an over-shirt and paced the room excitedly. Keith sat on the floor, watching Lance and, having already changed, waited for Lance to finish so they could leave. There was a level of uncertainty in his gaze, though Lance's eyes weren't trained enough to see it. Keith eyed the golden ring on Lance's pinkie and sighed. That ring... he shouldn't have given Lance that ring. Keith thought that they wouldn't ever seen each other again after that encounter, but here they were. He wondered at first if Lance would ask him about the ring, but he never did. It was all very confusing, too.

"Earth to Keith..."

Keith blinked and looked up at Lance, who had his hands on his hips. He smirked down at Keith cockily. "You alive down there? We're getting ready to go- come on." Keith nodded quickly and stood, brushing himself off and following Lance out the door. They went downstairs and climbed into a modest carriage to take them down to the city. They left, the horses pulling it clopping along and the carriage itself jumping once in a while ever so slightly. The two sat across from each other in silence; Keith looked down at his hands and Lance looked out the window, mesmerized by the view.   
Lance eventually looked away, back to Keith. "You seem tired."   
Keith looked up and gave Lance a questioning look.   
"Are you sleeping alright?"  
Keith shrugged and looked back down. Lance wouldn't have noticed Keith's exhausted behavior if there weren't such bags under Keith's eyes. He sighed and looked back out of the window, dropping the subject. 

They got to the town in an hour or two, not really speaking for the entire ride. And by that, I mean Lance didn't speak to Keith much.  
"Come on! They're starting to set up vendors!" Lance jumped out of the carriage, Keith coming out a little slower. When Keith was on the ground, Lance grabbed his hand and ran down the dirt road. They both had sported more peasant-like clothing as to fit in better, but the gold on Lance's ear lobes and cartilage stuck out like a sore thumb. Keith, pulled behind Lance rather roughly, struggled not to fall. Though he was running at such a fast pace, he was acutely aware of the glares he had been beginning to get. He shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have even come. They stopped for a moment and he pulled the hood of his dark cloak over his head.

"Oh my god! Keith, look!" Lance dragged him to a small, outdoor shop, slowing to a stop in front of the booth. "What gorgeous amulets!"

"Yes," The man at the booth said, giving Lance a smile. He didn't seem to realize who Lance was, and didn't seem to realize that Keith was standing next to him. "They're said to ward off against evil! Especially those pesky Hybrids that seem to be overflowing our streets recently, huh?" He laughed heartily. Keith pulled his scratchy hood further over his ears. Lance gave him a small glance and chuckled falsely.   
Lance began walking away, but Keith stayed. The booth owner turned his attention to Keith and frowned. Keith quickly stopped looking at the amulets and walked after Lance.

"Sorry about that." Lance said as they left the area. "I forgot that people here were so intolerant." Keith shrugged and looked away. Again, Keith never actually seemed to look him in the eye. Lance didn't like that much. They walked for a while more, eventually stopping to eat at a local pub. Thanks to Lance's lack of jewelry and other amenities, the two weren't stopped for any reason. They would sometimes get suspicious looks, seeing that Keith's hood was constantly over his head, but most people didn't pay it any mind.

"So, Keith."

Keith looked up at Lance from his plate.   
"Tell me about yourself."

Keith nodded and went for the parchment in his satchel. He put some of it on the table and seemed to think for a moment, writing stuff down.

"My name is Keith Kogane. I am seventeen, I am a Hybrid, and I come from Galra."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "There isn't anything else?" Keith faltered, but shook his head. Lance, unconvinced, stared Keith down for a moment. He then gave up and sighed leaning back in his chair, thinking. Keith looked at him like, 'What about you?'

"Well, I'm Lance McClain, I'm the heir to the Altean throne, I'm eighteen, and my favorite color is blue." Keith raised his own eyebrow to this.

"What does 'favorite' mean?" Lance gasped slightly.   
"You don't have a favorite color?" He exclaimed. Keith looked confused and shook his head no. Lance put his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'm wounded."

"Are you okay?" Keith wrote. Lance read this, then looked up at Keith's concerned face and laughed. "Of course I am, it's a figure of speech."

"Oh." Keith raised his eyebrows in realization and looked down, face reddening in embarrassment. He put away his parchment quickly in his bag and picked his fork and knife back up. He finished up eating (Lance had already done so earlier) and they paid and left.   
"Do you know what a favorite thing is?"   
Keith shook his head, looking up at Lance expectantly. Lance sighed and thought for a moment, coming up with an answer. "A favorite thing, ie a favorite color, is something that you like a little more than everything else. This can be for objects, times, and, of course, colors."  
Keith nodded, getting the gist of the concept.   
They walked around for a couple hours more, talking and getting to know each other- well, Lance talking and Keith writing everything down. The sun sank on the horizon and lights begun to be strung from booth to booth. The chattering of civilians could be heard from every angle. 

Lance had been to these festivals before. He loved every minute of them- the lanterns that had hung high above his head when he was younger and sat only a few feet above him now, the friendly faces that had smiled at him then and still smiled now. The smells and the sights and the sounds. He'd missed this. When he turned to Keith, though, he saw the exact opposite.

Dread, fear, and helplessness were settled in those gray eyes of his. His hands shook in the pockets of his cloak and Lance could see his breathing quicken.   
"Keith?" He said cautiously. Keith tensed, but turned to him, all of the signs that Lance'd seen earlier suddenly gone.   
Keith raised his eyebrows at Lance, as if to ask 'what'. "Are you okay?" Keith smiled a small smile and nodded, turning away from Lance and back to the crowd of people that had begun to fill the streets. Lance noticed some of the fear returning to Keith's face and he grabbed the younger Hybrid's hand, gripping it tightly. "You're okay." Lance said. Keith looked at him, unsure. "You're fine."  
Keith sighed and allowed Lance to pull him through the sea of foot traffic. Lance paved a path for him and Keith, smiling as they begun to reach some of the game booths. Lance let Keith go when they got to a 'knock down the bottles' booth. Lance paid a coin to the vendor and handed Keith a ball. Keith looked at him questioningly- he didn't know how to play.   
Lance smiled, amused. "Do you know how to play?" Keith shook his head. Lance chuckled and grabbed a ball out of the basket. "What you have to do is throw this ball at the bottles over there. If you knock down one bottle, you get a small prize. Two, medium, and three, you get one of those cool big ones." Lance said. "Watch."

Lance threw a ball at the bottles, knocking one of them down. He whooped and was given a small brooch, which he put on his coat. Keith fiddled with the ball in his hand while the vendor righted the ball Lance'd felled. "Okay, you're all set." The vendor said. Keith nodded and aimed. He threw the ball and hit all three bottles, effectively knocking them down. Lance gaped. Keith took the prize, a used but nicer leather cloak, and bowed his head in thanks to the vendor. The two walked away, prizes in hand.  
"How'd you even do that?"  
Keith shrugged and folded the cloak, putting it in his satchel bag. Lance grabbed Keith's hand once more and dragged him through the people mobbing the booths. As they did this, Keith could feel his hood slipping. He tried to grab it, but let go of Lance's hand right as it flew off his head.   
He was visible.

He tried to pull his hood back up quickly, so that nobody would notice, but then someone screamed. A child. A girl. He turned to see the girl clinging to her mother and the mother looking at him with a mix of fear and disgust. "A Hybrid!" She yelled. "A Hybrid! Run!" Other people began to turn to look at Keith and his eyes widened.   
Then, all hell broke loose. People screamed and ran. People closed their booths before it could get trampled by running pedestrians. Keith stood in the middle of it all, looking around for Lance in the panic.   
"Go away! Why are you here?" A man screamed from a couple feet away. Keith turned to look at them and they exclaimed loudly, backing away. Keith opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He couldn't speak. He could barely move, for Pete's sake. People cursed at him. People screamed because of him. People cried because of him. He crouched to the ground and put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise.   
"Freak!"  
"Killer!"  
"Die!"  
He whined softly and dug his sharpened fingernails into his head, drawing blood. "Keith?" A voice called. "Keith!" Keith looked up to see Lance running towards him. He grabbed Keith's wrist and pulled him up, dragging him out of the festival. A couple people chased them, but the two were able to outrun them. They climbed into the carriage they'd come on and Lance sat down heavily, sighing. The carriage began to move slowly down the path, and because of this Lance knew it was going to be a longer ride than before. Keith sat across from Lance, taking off his cloak and strewing it on the floor with his satchel. He pulled his knees to his chest.  
"Keith? Are you alright?"  
Keith nodded through his knees. Lance frowned, seat-hopping to go sit next to Keith. He put his arm around the Hybrid's shoulders and pulled him into a half-hug. Keith leaned begrudgingly into Lance's side but didn't emerge from his little ball.   
"I'm sorry," Lance said softly. He didn't exactly know what he was sorry for, but he knew he had to say it at some point. Keith picked his head up and for a moment, Lance could see who Keith truly was- a tired, hated boy who was just doing his best. He smiled sadly and pulled Keith closer. Keith whined again, ever so quietly, and leaned into Lance heavily.   
"You're fine, Keith. I'm here." Lance said, feeling the wetness on his coat. "I'm sorry people are such assholes." Keith hiccuped and continued to cry almost silently. Lance ran his hand through Keith's long hair and whispered reassurances into his ears.   
Things quieted down after what seemed like an eternity for Lance, but in reality was just about ten minutes. Keith's cries tapered off and he fell silent, still leaning against Lance. He sat upright and sniffed, becoming aloof and looking out the window as if to ignore Lance.   
"Keith," Lance said. He grinned slightly when Keith eventually turned to him- face red and blotchy, tear tracks running down his cheeks. Hair mussed and eyes glazed over from sadness and tears and exhaustion.   
"C'mere," Lance said. He pulled Keith into him once again, letting the younger teen bury his face in his chest. There were no tears. If there were, Lance would feel it. Keith just sat up against Lance and closed his eyes, thinking. He kicked himself. For being a hybrid, for not talking. He wondered if Lance had begun to hate him yet- everyone else seemed to. Lance ran a hand through his hair and he leaned into that hand, relishing the warmth.

Lance, however, relished this time spent with Keith- after the tears, after the pain. The pain still lingered, of course, but it ebbed a little bit each time Lance grazed his fingers over Keith's scalp. He felt the Hybrid shift a little bit and he scooted a little away, letting Keith's head fall into his lap. Keith opened his eyes and gazed up at Lance, his eyes sad, eyes grateful, eyes so, so tired. He sent a small smile up to the prince, a silent thank you. He then zoned out, staring off into space as Lance played with his hair or wiped still-escaping tears from his cheeks.   
He began to drift off a little later, soothed by the rumbling lullaby of the carriage rolling against pebbles and gravel, by the feeling of soft fingertips brushing his matted hair smooth, of Lance's voice, whispering nonsense over his head. He closed his eyes and let sleep grab him; contrary to death's icy grip, its sister's was much warmer, much more gentle.

Lance looked down at Keith with a sort of fondness he couldn't recognize. He furrowed his brows and brushed Keith's bangs off of his forehead, taking in the distinct change of expression from when he was awake. He seemed, for the first time since Lance'd met him, serene. He seemed calm then, whereas anytime else he seemed conflicted, stoic.   
He wondered how much Keith fought. There was a long scar going across his chest, up his shoulder, and over the right side of his face. It was a dull rosy color, ashen from age. He wondered where Keith got it. He wondered how many more scars Keith had.   
Lance sighed and tilted his head back, looking at the top of the carriage. He wanted to get home. He wanted this bitter yet exhilarating night to just be over. He looked back down to Keith and noticed the other's bulging satchel sitting discarded in the corner. He carefully leaned forward and grabbed it, opening the pouch. He stopped for a moment, wondering if Keith would be mad, but shrugged it off and opened it anyway. He saw the leather cloak on the top and took it out. Underneath, there was a neatly organized array of items, like used notes, empty notes, and writing utensils. There was even a small blade. Lance felt content after just seeing this and closed it. He looked down when the Hybrid stirred slightly, shifting around. He smiled and took the leather cloak, draping it over Keith in a sort of makeshift blanket. 

The carriage came to a stop about forty minutes after. Lance tried to wake Keith and failed, sighing and lifting Keith on his back. He stepped out of the carriage and refused help from others, walking into the castle and greeting Hunk, who'd been standing at the door, with a smile that said 'what can you do?'. He brought Keith to their room and decided that, instead of waking Keith fully so that they could do the nightly routine, he would just let Keith sleep on his bed for the night. They had so many guest rooms that it was almost insane- he could just stay in one of those. He lay Keith down on the bed and went to leave, stopping though when he heard a faint, disgruntled hum come from where Keith laid.   
Lance turned, seeing Keith sitting up, his half-open eyes shining in the luminescent light of the moon. "Lance?"   
Lance froze upon hearing his name leave Keith's mouth. The voice was rough, unused. It was soft and light. It was deep, it was calm, and it was so Keith. Lance absolutely loved it.  
"Where are you going?" Keith's voice was graced with an ever-so-slight accent, and even through sleep-deprived thoughts, his words articulated formally and beautifully. Lance swallowed hard against the lump that'd formed in his throat.   
"Nowhere," He mumbled, a bit astonished. "Nowhere at all." Keith nodded at this and laid back down, seemingly content with Lance's bullshit answer. Keith still looked at Lance, though, expectant and waiting. Waiting for Lance to walk over and hold him as he had in the carriage. For Lance to smile at him and brush the hair from his forehead. For Lance to whisper nonsensical ramblings into his ear until he fell asleep.   
When Lance began his walk over, Keith felt it okay to close his eyes once more. Lance kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed with Keith, sighing uncertainly when Keith wrapped his arms around his waist. It was... different, to say the least. 

And he realized then that he'd developed a sort-of crush on the younger Hybrid. And that alone was unheard of. A person, let alone a prince, dating a Hybrid? A prince dating a male Hybrid, no less? His father would have a fit. These thoughts were repelled from his mind when Keith nuzzled his nose into Lance's chest. Lance smiled and touched Keith's hair again. Though tangled, it was soft and smooth and long as hell. Lance wanted to touch that hair forever. And then he decided- let his father have a fit. Let him rage and let him yell. If Keith wanted it too, they would date. And his father would hate it, but who cared? It was Lance's life, and he was going to live it how he deemed fit.   
But for the time being, he would just close his eyes and shift so that Keith fit perfectly. He fell asleep to the sound of deep breathing and a couple of twittering birds, sitting with each other on the windowsill.

\-----

Lance awoke later that night to an empty bed. He sat up, shivering at the cold that bit his skin. The window was open and the drapes blew in the gentle breeze. He wondered where Keith went. He probably woke up and moved to the roof earlier. Lance, having got into a routine of checking the roof when he woke up first, climbed onto that rusty beam and toed his way onto the roof, lacking the nimbleness that Keith had. He tried to be as quiet as possible, failing miserably. He had to admit- it was much harder climbing up there when it was dark. He really had to give Keith props for getting onto that every night.  
When he reached the roof and peeked over the ledge, though, Keith was nowhere to be found. He scratched his head and managed to get back into his room without dying. Thank god. He walked over to his nightstand and lit a small lantern, pulling on some shoes and setting out to find Keith. This was an important matter; it couldn't wait til morning!

He padded his way across the hall and down the stairs leading to the castle grounds. He had a feeling that Keith hadn't gone too far, but he couldn't explain it. He walked outside and shivered again; the cold was even harsher outside.   
"Keith?" He called. Not too loudly, so that he wouldn't wake anyone else. If anyone knew he was wandering the castle at night, he would be eaten alive. There wasn't an answer. He frowned and walked a little farther out, closer to the edge of the grounds. He checked in every tree and behind every boulder. He called Keith's name a couple more times and hummed in agitation. Where was Keith? Lance knew that the Hybrid was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but he was still worried.

He took another step and saw a guard tower- there. There he was. Sitting atop it, looking out upon the still-lit city. "Keith!" Lance yelled, completely disregarding his prior quiet tone. The boy looked Lance's way, frowned, then looked away. Lance growled and resigned to the fact that Keith wasn't going to come down anytime soon, so he jogged up to the tower and climbed up the steps, getting to the top and climbing onto the roof, standing behind Keith with a frown.   
"Keith, why did you leave?" He asked. Keith's head lowered. "Keith, there's no use in silence now- you've already spoken to me and I know you know it too."

"No." Lance swallowed hard at Keith's dejected response. He guessed that the Hybrid had figured out he had nowhere else to run. Lance walked over and sat on the ledge next to Keith. "Talk to me."

"No."

"Keith."

There was a silence, and then a soft sigh. Lance watched Keith's face rise, sad and slow. He looked into Lance's eyes, and Lance held that beautiful, gray gaze in his own. His mouth opened uncertainly.  
"I-"

There was a whiz and then a thump as an arrow flew by, hitting Keith in the shoulder. Keith cried out and fell back, writhing on the ground. Lance yelped in fear and turned to look at the shooter. His eyes widened as he met the golden eye of Lotor, perched in a tree below. He snarled and stood.  
"Lotor! Why have you returned?" Lance bellowed. The sun was beginning to rise and silhouetted Lotor as he stood. He brought his face up to meet Lance's own and he had his mouth in a sneer of contempt and amusement.   
"Why not? Plus, you have a Galran traitor, not to mention a Hybrid, don't you?" He called back. Lance's nostrils flared in anger, but he didn't go down the tower. He knew that he was no match for Lotor's brute strength, less so his magic. Lotor snickered and turned from Lance, giving him a smirk. He then jumped from that tree to the next, bounding away. Lance would have to tell Pidge about this after all.   
He then turned to Keith, who was panting heavily and bleeding himself pale. Lance swore and knelt down next to the younger boy. "Keith, com'on."   
"I'm fine." Keith grunted. He tried to sit up, but Lance pushed him back down onto the tower, where he fell with a wince.  
"No, you're not. Let me help you." Lance said. Keith frowned and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in anticipation.  
Lance grabbed the arrow and waited a moment, counting to three before he yanked the arrow out and put pressure on the wound. Keith roared in pain as Lance did this, struggling and trying his damnedest to make the pain stop. Lance had to hold him down for a moment, making sure he didn't fall off the tower. "You're okay," Lance muttered, taking off his light overcoat and ripping it up, making a makeshift tourniquet and tying it onto Keith's shoulder. "You'll be fine." Keith whimpered and opened his eyes, looking at Lance.   
"Lance..."

"You're fine." Lance assured him, giving him a strained smile. Keith's eyes fluttered shut again and Lance swore. He thought about calling for help, then realized that 1. He wouldn't reach anyone from this far away and 2. He wasn't even supposed to be out there. He swore again, deciding to pick Keith up and climb off the roof of the tower. As he ran down the steps, he felt Keith begin to tremble in his hands. Just how bad was the wound? Or maybe... oh god, he hoped not.   
"Help!" He yelled as he begun running across the grounds. He completely disregarded his earlier notion about not telling anyone. "Someone, please help!" A guard jogged out and squinted, gasping when he saw Lance running at top speed with Keith in his arms. He yelled something to people behind him and ran over to Lance. Lance lay Keith on the ground and examined him, acknowledging the guards that knelt next to him with a glance.  
"Please, please- he got shot with an arrow... I think that it may have been poisoned-"

"Lance!" Lance looked up at Hunk's call.   
"Hunk! Hunk, Keith's been shot. We need to get him to the infirmary, quick."   
Hunk nodded and began to run away, beckoning for Lance to follow him. Lance picked Keith back up, ignoring the protests from the guards, and ran behind Hunk. They reached the infirmary pretty quickly and Pidge sped in, looking around.

"What happened? Why is Keith bleeding?" She ran over and grabbed a stethoscope from off the wall. She tsked when she used it. "Has he been poisoned? From just his heartbeat I can tell that he's had curare put in his system."

"Curare?" Hunk gasped. Curare is a plant-based poison that consists of many different types of components, each practically harmless on their own but lethal when combined. It's commonly used for arrow tips and can weaken the muscles, paralyze the diaphragm, and eventually cause death through asphyxiation. As the poison sinks through your body, your heart can begin to beat erratically and your chest can tighten up significantly, making you weaker and making it hard to breathe. Those who have this poison put into their bloodstream, due to paralysis, could die within a matter of thirty minutes. (Lesson from Leigh)

Lance stepped aside as Hunk spoke with Pidge, who was opening a small kit from underneath the bed. "We need to keep him breathing until he stabilizes," She said, pulling a small syringe out from the box. She filled it with some clear liquid and held it to the light, flicking it. "I'm going to give him some adrenaline to delay the effects of the curare, then we can give him some oxygen and see how he's doing after that." Hunk nodded and held Keith down as Pidge inserted the syringe. The Hybrid, more awake now and weak from the poison, tried his best to get out of Hunk's grip but failed. 

After she gave him the adrenaline she filled it with a murkier liquid, a yellowish-brown in tone. She put it into his arm and he thrashed around a bit more, becoming weaker by the minute. Lance walked back over to see Keith fighting to stay awake. Pidge must have given him some kind of sedative. Keith's eyes turned to him, his eyelids drooping over those grey irises, and Lance saw so much fear. Keith whined quietly and reached his hand, albeit shakily, out to Lance, possibly looking for some sort of solace. Lance grabbed Keith's hand and held it tightly, giving him another reassuring smile. "You're okay, Keith," He said. "You can sleep. We're gonna take care of you, okay?" 

Keith whined again, unsure, but let his eyes close. Lance felt Keith's arm go limp and he put the hand down on the bed. Pidge ran a hand through her hair and Hunk released Keith, standing back a bit. She grabbed the stethoscope again, checking Keith's heartbeat. "Still a little erratic," She said, sighing with a slight smile. "But he's stabilizing. We can start treatment."  
Hunk sighed with her and matched her grin.

"Is he-" Lance swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "Is he gonna be okay?" He asked. Pidge smiled weakly at him.

"I hope so."

\---

It took a while for them to completely treat Keith. They disinfected and wrapped his shoulder, they kept his airways open with steroids, they kept clear oxygen flowing through his system and they slowly weaned him off of it. Throughout this days-long process, Pidge kept Keith knocked out with sedatives. People were in and out every day, bringing the three food, giving their condolences. Even a queen from a neighboring kingdom came to give her wishes. Her name was Allura, and Lance could've sworn that both her and Pidge were stealing glances at each other the entire time. It was very cute.   
Nevertheless, Lance felt bad, but with each passing day, Keith seemed to get better. His breathing cleared on the second day, his arm began to heal on the third day, and on the night of the fifth, his fever broke. That's when Keith woke up.

Keith blinked his eyes open, still loopy from the shots. He half sat up, immediately wincing when a shooting pain threaded out from his shoulder. Where even was he? This wasn't Lance's room; this wasn't the roof; this wasn't outside at all. He looked around, seeing a curtain to his left and Lance to his right. Wait- Lance. He looked at Lance, who was hunched over his bed, his head rested in his arms. The prince seemed to be asleep and looked tired. Keith sighed blearily and ran a shaking finger through Lance's soft hair. His hands still shook, he noticed. Probably an after-effect from the poison.

"Keith?" Keith turned at the mention of his name. Lance sat up, stretching and yawning. He looked at the Hybrid and smiled. "Keith! You're awake!" Keith's eyebrows raised and he blinked again, confused.  
"Awake?" He rasped. "How- how long have I been asleep?"

"Five days," Lance said with a sad smile. Keith frowned and looked away.  
"Sorry to have given you the trouble." 

"Don't apologize. Just thank Pidge and Hunk when they see you tomorrow. They've done a lot, and I don't think you'd be alive right now if it weren't for them. Plus, It's nice to actually, finally hear your voice."

Keith turned to Lance with a brow raised. "What has happened to me?"

"Lotor shot you with a poison arro-"

"Lotor?!" Keith yelped, his eyes going wide. He sat up. "Lotor shot me?"

"Yeah...?"

"Oh my goodness." Keith put a hand to his forehead and his other to his mouth in shock. Lance was taken aback for a moment but regained his composure.   
"What is it about Lotor that's got you freaking out?"  
Keith furrowed his brows and looked away from Lance. Just as Lance was about to comment, though, Keith turned to him with a shaky breath. He looked Lance straight in the eye and Lance swallowed hard.

"He's... He's my... H-He's my half-brother."

"What?!" Lance barked. Keith looked down, ashamed. "The prince of Galra is your goddamn half-brother?!"

Keith nodded. "Why do you think I left?" He sighed and looked back up at Lance. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I'd lived in the slums for my entire life and I'd only really just found out when I decided to come here."

Lance stood and paced in front of Keith's bed. He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is gonna be a problem."

"I'm sorry." Keith looked down and gripped the blanket tightly. Lance furrowed his brows in worry.

"Keith-"

"I'm sorry!" Keith all but yelled. Lance was taken aback for a moment, then he sat on the bed.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"Not just for that, Lance." Keith's voice was tearful and apologetic. "I'm sorry for being a burden, for not telling you this, and for using your resources and distracting you from work. I'm sorry for forcing you to see me like this." Keith put the palm of his hand to his eye to stop tears, but it didn't end up working. He choked back a sob.

Lance scooted up to sit next to Keith, back on the pillows. He frowned and took Keith's hand away from his face, holding it gently in his hand. "Keith, it's okay. You're part of the castle. And it's okay to ask people for help, you know."

Keith looked away and frowned. "But... But I'm a burden, Lance," He said. He looked up at the prince with a hopeless gaze. "I wasn't even supposed to talk, and here I am, spilling everything. I'm a Hybrid, a Galran, and a complete failure. I don't get it. Why me? I didn't ask to be all of these things! I just want to be normal, but I can't ever have that. I don't understand. It... it makes me want to scream, Lance."

"So scream."

Keith averted his gaze again and grit his teeth gasping out another sob. "I can't do this anymore."

"Keith..." The Hybrid looked up. Lance sighed and gave a small smile. "Keith, you're hapless, injured, and emotional. But you're pretty strong, especially for someone as small as yourself. Do you really think I haven't noticed that you'd been hacking at the trees on the grounds? I have no doubt that, in a fight, you could protect me easily. You could protect yourself easily. You're anything but a burden."

Keith's breath caught in his throat and he stared up at Lance with wide eyes. "Lance..." The older teen grabbed Keith and pulled him to his chest. They shifted down so that they were lower on the pillows, Keith's face nuzzled in Lance's chest. Lance still felt a slight wetness on his shirt, so he held Keith closer.  
"You're okay, Keith. I can say that with certainty. You can sleep if you want. We can just lay here if you want. I can even leave if that's what you asked me. But I'll be back if you do."

Lance felt Keith smile faintly. "Let's just lay here."

"Okay."

Keith fell back asleep pretty quickly; he probably needed to sleep off the rest of Pidge's sedative. But Lance stayed awake, staring out the infirmary window and looking at the stars. He counted the constellations he could see and made more of his own.   
He fell back into sleep later, not waking until later that next day.

\---

Keith blinked. He was awake. He looked around. Where was he again? Oh, right. He'd been poisoned. He sat up a bit, holding his head to ward off an impending headache.

"Keith?" Keith looked up as Pidge walked into the room. She gave him a bright smile and jogged over to meet him. "You're awake!"   
Keith went to say something but realized he hadn't spoken to her, or anyone other than Lance, yet. He instead gave her a weak smile and nodded. He looked to his side, where Lance still slept. "He's asleep, huh?"

Keith gave her a questioning look.   
"Lance hasn't been sleeping much these past couple days. He was worried about you." She said. Keith furrowed his brows and looked back at Lance.   
"Don't worry, though," She said. Keith raised his eyebrow. "Lance has always been like this." He looked at Pidge as if telling her to elaborate. She smiled.   
"Lance is often very protective of the people who are either under him or in his inner circle. He'd most likely do anything for them. One time, my wing got injured, and he literally sat with me every day, getting me whatever I needed and helping me move it around so that it didn't get stiff. Hunk once got shot with a regular arrow, not poisoned or anything, and Lance was freaking out until he knew that Hunk was in the clear. It's hilarious when you think about it, but it's actually very sweet." 

Keith frowned slightly and wrung his hands together. He didn't want Lance to worry... he sighed silently and ran a hand through his hair.

"If you're feeling okay, do you mind if I take a look at you?" She asked. He looked back up at her and nodded. He still felt the shakiness in his hands, and he had a headache- overall, actually, he felt like shit. But at least he wasn't dead. 

Pidge quietly, as not to wake Lance, checked Keith's heart, his breathing, his reflexes and range of motion- the works. Other than the residual signs of the poison, he was well enough that Pidge gave him an all-clear. "Just take a day or two and rest. Past that, you seem fine."  
Keith gave her a smile and a nod, so she took that cue to leave. She waved to Keith as she left, her wings shifting silently as she walked through the door.

"Is she gone?"   
Keith jumped from the sudden voice and looked down. Lance grinned up at him and Keith grinned back, shoving him playfully.  
"Don't do that," Keith said. His voice was still a little rough, and Lance loved it. He sat up next to Keith and they leaned on each other, cramping into the rather small infirmary bed.   
"How are you feeling?"   
"I'm alright."  
"Really?"  
"Yes."   
"That's good."  
There was a silence- it was comfortable. The two had spent days sitting in silence, from Keith's lack of speaking. They were both pretty used to it. But Lance was conflicted. What were they going to do about the Lotor situation? This could turn out to cause a full-blown war between their two countries. 

As if reading Lance's mind, Keith said, "What are we going to do about Lotor?" Lance smiled at the irony but shrugged.   
"I have no idea."  
"Damn."  
"You got that right."

The silence returned again, and Lance, for the first time, found it tense. "You know what?" Keith said, quieter than Lance had heard him be since the two woke up.

"What?" Lance prodded gently. Keith snickered.   
"I don't fuckin' care." 

"What?!" 

"Who fucking cares about me over there? No-one. They just want me back as a bargaining chip. You lot on the other hand- you lot have been the nicest to me that anyone's ever been. So I don't care about them. I do care about you, though," He said, giving Lance the sweetest smile. "And I'd like to be here to protect you if we do wage any wars. Is that alright?"

God, the silence thickened with Keith's imposing question. You know what? Fuck it. "That's fine with me. I dub thee," Lance stood off the bed, causing Keith to giggle. "My noble, loyal knight."

They cracked up and laughed until it was time for breakfast, at which they stole looks at each other and referenced silent, inside jokes that only them two got. And it was alright. For now, anyway, it was alright.


	11. Yours, Even in Death, Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Keith to Lance for him to read after the mission that he thought would be suicide.

Lance trudged into his dorm, closing the door quietly as to not wake Keith, who laid, sleeping, on their bed. He sighed, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes. He felt bad. Keith had tried to pull him aside that night to talk about something that Lance knew was long since coming. Lance, though, didn't want to hear it. He had yelled at Keith, storming out of the dorm with a loud slam of the door. He had, of course, been aware of the tears filling Keith's eyes as he left. He'd been aware of his own petty selfishness. That's why he came back instead of staying in Hunk's room. He wanted- no, needed- to talk with Keith. He knew what his boyfriend was going to say, but he needed to hear it anyway. No matter how much he told himself that he didn't.

He took off his shoes near the door and looked to the bed, where Keith slept. Keith was turned to the wall, but Lance could figure out what he looked like, clear as day; tear-tracks running down his usually stoic, pale face. Scar-blemished hands pulled to his chest in some sort of security, feet pulled in the same way. Hair mussed- Lance knew it was a nervous tick of Keith's to pace and play with his hair when he was stressed. He sighed again and glanced across the room at Keith's oak wood desk, where the light stayed on and shining brightly. There were papers strewn all across it, the pages numbered in a sort of storybook fashion. He walked over to the desk and picked one up, needing to squint to make out the print in the dark room.

''Dear Lance-

 

Hey, sharpshooter. It's me. And I'm sure you're pretty confused at the moment, finding a random letter in my desk addressed to you, so let me fill you in. A couple moments ago, you stormed out of our dorm-room. I'm writing this to you so that I'll have one chance to actually speak to you before tomorrow, even if I'm not actually dead yet. And yes, if you're reading this, I'm most likely dead. It pains me to say that, but it's true. This master plan that we devised... it isn't so master after all. But I made sure that it was me who was going to die and not you. And I'm sure you know this, because you've yelled at me every time I've tried to say goodbye. So this is my goodbye, Lance. I'm a dead man walking before my suicide tomorrow, so I wanted to leave you a note. To explain everything. To tell you how much I truly, truly loved you. And I did love you, Lance. I loved you so much- I still do. It's really weird to talk about myself in the past tense, but I'm sure that if you're reading this right now, you already are.

This is the story of us- of our beginning, of our fights and hatred. Of my warped feelings towards you when we met and your denial of everything having to do with me. Didn't you ignore me for a week in our first year? Yeah, I think you did. I'm smiling, thinking back onto that. The story of then, of now. Of our first night, where we yelled at each other then didn't speak at all. Of last night, where we yelled at each other then slept in each other's arms. This is the story of us. Of you; of me. Of VMA and our friends. Of our much-too-abrupt end. I hope you're reading this, Lance. I really do; because I need you to know this. I need you to know everything, whether or not you want to. So here it is, all laid out on one, long letter. We'll start at the very beginning- our first day at VMA.

-Yours, even in death, Keith''

Lance put a hand to his mouth in shock. Why did Keith write this? Of course, Lance knew that the plan for the following day was extremely dangerous, especially so for Keith. He didn't know that Keith was expecting to die, though. It made a shiver go down his spine. He put the paper down and sat on the chair next to the desk. He looked back over at Keith, perceiving him in a new light. He groaned softly and put his head in his hands, leaning on the surface of the desk. He caught two bold words scrawled into the second page.

"YEAR ONE:"

Lance swallowed hard. He almost couldn't resist picking up the next page; couldn't resist knowing what Keith had to say. He wanted to wait. He didn't want to know things that Keith may have been too afraid to share with him while alive. But at the same time, he wanted to know everything. He pursed his lips and picked up the paper with trembling hands.

"My first year here was rough. I'm sure it was rough for you too, seeing as I was a little ball of angst when I was fourteen. You, though- you were a little ball of sunshine. Amazing, really, how positive a person could be when faced with something so negative. We were complete opposites then- we still are, but maybe that's what makes us so compatible.

I remember my first day like it was yesterday. I walked slowly through the halls of VMA, just soaking in the fact that I was actually a Mage. I'm sure you don't even know this now, but despite my mother, I was never raised in a magical household. My brother is a Normal and my mother left when I was three, so I never got the chance to actually find out that I could use it. I knew what magic was and what it did for our society, of course. I just didn't know that I wasn't Normal. It's funny, writing all this down for the world to see. And I say 'the world' because you are my world. Haha. I used the same pick-up line you used on me last week, remember? I'm sure you don't. Whatever.

So I was walking through the halls, looking out of those big windows that our dorm building has. It's not called the Windy Windows Tower for nothing, anyway. The campus was so big to me then. The grassy scenery was so cool, the kids practicing magic on picnic blankets was so foreign. I was enthralled by the pretty lights, by the magic-made-gorgeous people. I was enthralled by the spells. I still think spells are pretty neat, but then, my inexperienced brain couldn't wrap around the reality of it all. The fact that I would be able to do all of that just blew my mind. Anyway, there were two things that shocked me the most that day. Let's start with the first.

The first complete shocker came to me the moment I put my foot on the concrete stairs leading up to the dorm hallway. I put my foot on it and I felt a humming; warm and sincere. I had to take my foot off, seeing as I was surprised and terrified by the liveliness of our building. I tenderly stepped back onto it, and the mood of the steps changed from confusion to joy. It felt so alive that I could practically see something standing on the step in front of me, guiding me to our room. I would find out later that it wasn't the building that was humming, but Red, my lion familiar, who inhabited it. She guided me up the steps and down an atrociously decorated hallway. She seemed to notice my disgust at the decor and turned her nose up in annoyance. Still, though, she guided me to our room where, upon putting my hand on the doorknob, she vanished. I put it up to magic and opened the unlocked door. This is where we come to my second shocker of the day.

You. You kneeled on the ground, putting your clothing away in your dresser. I entered the room and you looked up, allowing me to get a good look at you. You know what you look like already, but I'm going to tell you anyway. You were absolutely beautiful. No amount of magic could ever make you look better than you did then (and do now). You had dark skin and even darker hair, with both darker and lighter freckles littering your cheeks as if you had stars etched into your face. Your eyes were the most breathtaking to me, though. A deep, sagacious, unwavering blue stared me in the eye and looked me from head to toe. Your analytical glare was hidden by your friendly smile that you plastered on your face for sake of good impressions. And you did make a good impression- you made an amazing one. I just couldn't make one of my own.

You stood and brushed dust of your jeans, walking over to hold a hand out to shake. I noticed that your hands were littered in that same motley of dark and light freckles and that your fingers were painted a navy blue. I pushed my glasses up on my nose and tentatively took your hand, which was significantly bigger than my own. You smiled and shook my hand, releasing it and walking away, pushing your hoodie sleeves up.

"The name's Lance," You said to me. I noticed a slight accent underneath your lilting tone. I didn't know where you were from then, but I do now and I still think it's hot. "I'm a water and ice Elemental Wizard. What about you?"

I was hesitant to tell you my name and class, but I knew that it was polite to in the world of magic. I sucked up my discomfort and told you, however quiet I may have been. "Keith Kogane," I said. "Fire Mage, Fighter Class."

Your blue eyes widened and I blushed red. I knew exactly what you were going to say. It was so mean of you to mention it. So, so mean. But I forgive you, only because I don't like carrying grudges to the grave. That was a joke, by the way. Jeez, it's hard to make jokes when you're writing and the other person can't hear your tone. Whatever.

"Kogane? Like, Krolia Kogane, Kogane?"

I coughed sheepishly. Of course it was, Lance! You should've assumed that and kept quiet about it. Another joke, by the way. Okay, I'm done with the jokes. It's too hard to joke in a suicide note.

"Yes," I said. "But I never knew my mother."

When I said this, you suddenly seemed uncomfortable. I didn't know why then. I know now that it was unfathomable to you that somebody didn't know their mom. You live with such a huge family that it's unfathomable for even me that you would grow up unloved. But then, I couldn't figure out why you seemed to be squirming in your Hollister Wave-Rider sweatshirt.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." You mumbled. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"It's fine." I said. Then I unpacked and went outside.

I realized I had a crush on you two weeks after that. Do you want to know what tipped me off? It was the way you worked. You wore contacts during the day, I found out, then at night you would take them out and work with those thick blue glasses of yours. You look so pretty in those glasses. You would always seem too tired to function when you worked at night, and your glasses would always find a way to slide off your nose. I found you stunning in the light of your desk lamp, writing theses or practicing small, quiet spells. You don't know this, but when you would do this, I would stay up later, listening to your murmurs and the sound of sparks flying out of your wand. I would fall asleep to your fingers tapping keys or the sound of pencils across paper. I thought you were so soothing. It was too bad you hated me then.

Remember when I said earlier that it was funny when you ignored me for a whole week? Yeah, no. That was pretty painful, dude. But impressive in the same way. I would talk to you and you wouldn't even look my way. Looking back, you were being pretty stupid, but in the moment I found you so loathsome. It was too bad I'd fallen in love with you by then. That didn't stop me from physically assaulting you every chance I'd get, though. I'm proud of that one five star- I'm sure you remember that one that bruised you for an entire month. Yeah, that was fun.

Anyway, back to the letter. I remember our first class together. It was botany, and I was so happy because I was paired up with Pidge, who was a Botany Class Wizard. You scowled at me, so I put up the finger in mockery. You were so funny. Pidge and I aced that class. You did too, but I got a 97% and you got a 93%. How do I remember, you ask? Because I will never forget any of the times where I actually beat you in something. :)

For the rest of the year, my crush bloomed into something ravenous, something hungry. I ended up staying away from you for a while, so I could think and get my head straight. Though, it was hard for me to do so when you were in six of my eight classes. I remember trying to get a hold on myself, but at the same time finding myself staring at you with the intensity of a thousand suns, only to stick my tongue out at you when you looked my way. Insert more bickering and fighting, and then we can sum up my first year with you. Take all of that away, though, and you have my first summer without you. That's when I realized that you made me happy. I wasn't happy for the two months that summer dragged on, and came to the conclusion that it was you who was the cause for my happiness.

So, as not to drag this letter on, I'll get to year two already.

-Yours, even in death, Keith."

Lance put the paper down and let a melancholy smile spread across his face. So this was what Keith meant when he said he was going to to tell Lance their story. He was literally going to tell their story- the one of how they met and started dating. That surprised Lance, as Keith wasn't one to hold onto sentimental things such as this.

He heard the sheets on their bed rustle, so he looked up. Keith sat up in bed and blinked at Lance with bleary, sleep-filled eyes.

"Lance?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'll come to bed in a minute. I just need to sort something out."

This seemed to be a sufficient answer for Keith, because he just nodded and slumped back onto the bed. Lance sighed out in relief. He didn't want Keith to catch him reading the letter. He didn't know why he was so afraid of it, but he was for reasons unknown to him. He waited until Keith's breathing evened out before he released the breath he'd been holding and turned back to the desk. He almost didn't want to read any more of it. He didn't want to know all of this deep shit before he was supposed to. So he didn't pick up the next page. He groaned and turned off the desk lamp, getting up and stretching. He got changed and got in bed, waking Keith. Keith opened his eyes a little bit, smiling when he saw Lance.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." Lance said back. Keith cuddled up to Lance's chest and fell asleep again, his even breathing filling the room's silence once more. Lance laid on his back and looked at the ceiling, where dozens of glow in the dark sticky stars were plastered to the ceiling. They grounded him, made him sane. He ran a hand through his hair and groaned quietly, grabbing his phone from the side table and texting Pidge.

Lanky_Boii: Hey, Pidge?

Pigeon: Yeah

Lanky_Boii: Is tomorrow suicide?

Pigeon: ...probably.

Lanky_Boii: What if we die?

Pigeon: Then we die.

Lanky_Boii: But I don't want to die.

Pigeon: None of us do. But if we do die, we can die knowing that we died for the greater good of humanity.

Lanky_Boii: That sounds like some dumbass Kill la Kill bullshit.

Pigeon: Well, it's true in this situation. If we let the Galra take any more control over us, we'll all die. This way we can die knowing that we served a purpose; that we made certain that others didn't die.

Lanky_Boii: I don't want Keith to die.

Pigeon: ...

Pigeon: I know.

Lanky_Boii: I really need him to live.

Pigeon: I know.

Lanky_Boii: I don't know what to do, Pidge.

Lanky_Boii: If he dies, then I won't know how to live.

Pigeon: You seemed to be living just fine before him.

Lanky_Boii: Yeah, but now I don't know how to live without him.

Lanky_Boii: What am I going to do?

Pigeon: Well that depends on if you're willing and ready to give your life tomorrow.

Lanky_Boii: Ready, yes. Willing, no.

Pigeon: If you want to save him, then you need to fight for him.

Lanky_Boii: How so? Is this metaphorical?

Pigeon: Far from it.

Pigeon: You need to be ready to die for the person you love most, Lance. That's the only way you can fight knowing you could die. Think of it as dying for Keith.

Lanky_Boii: I'm already prepared to do that.

Pigeon: Then you're already prepared for tomorrow.

Lanky_Boii: But what is the point of fighting for someone if you won't survive to see them live?

Pigeon: That's pretty philosophical coming from you

Lanky_Boii: Answer the question, Pidge.

Pigeon: Fine. But you won't like my answer.

Lanky_Boii: That's okay.

Pigeon: If you have no-one for whom to fight, you won't have anything to live for.

Lanky_Boii: First you assume that I'm going to die, and now you tell me that I have something to live for?

Pigeon: If you have something to fight for, then you fight. If you have something to die for, then you die. if you have something to live for, then you live. They're sides of the same coin, Lance. They're all the same. I'm just saying that you need something to keep you grounded tomorrow. I think Keith is that something.

Lanky_Boii: So you're saying that I need to be ready to die tomorrow?

Pigeon: Essentially.

Lanky_Boii: ...

Lanky_Boii: Ok.

Lanky_Boii left the chat.

Lance shut off his phone and put it back on the nightstand next to him. He rubbed his hand over his face and looked at the blaring red digits of the alarm clock on the same stand. It read 3:28 a.m.. He sighed and gave up on getting any sleep that night, quietly getting up from the bed and walking back over to Keith's desk. He turned on the lamp once more, picking up the next page of Keith's letter.

"YEAR TWO:

The more massive a star, the quicker it dies. It just uses up too much of its fuel too quickly to sustain itself. Some burn out, bursting into supernovas within only a few million years. I felt myself bursting after only two.

Over the summer, I'd gotten better at controlling my magic. It was hard to learn, of course, and definitely hard to master, only because I was using my mother's staff. It still had so much of her magic crammed into there, and I would find myself tapping into it even when I didn't want to. Maybe that's why I was drawn to you. Your magic was so unique; so foreign. My mother's magic was white-hot, burning and passionate. It felt like magma, slowly coursing through my veins and setting my body on fire. As I told you, I never knew my mother. She left when I was three, became the greatest Mage the modern world had ever seen, then died. She was almost like a star, now that I think about it. Born with a bang, burning bright for a while, then dying with a bang only for the cycle to start over once more. You once told me my magic felt like a star that was in the midst of a supernova- exploding out of its core, bursting at the seams. It was so specific that I couldn't help but laugh. Your magic is so different, though. It's like an ocean that takes hold of you and lets you control it, its waves lapping at my toes and making me feel at home. Your magic was warm, not hot. It was overflowing, not bursting. It was calm, not raging. I found it beautiful.

There's one thing that I remember extremely well from our second year. It was a Saturday night, and I was doing homework at my desk. I felt you coming closer, but I couldn't hear or see you, so I indulged you by letting you sneak up on me. But I didn't let you scare me. You abruptly put your hands on my shoulders. "Boo!" You exclaimed. I just scoffed and swiveled my chair around to face you.

"What?" I said. I was keeping a straight face, but internally, I felt as if fireworks were going off in my stomach. You were so close. I still felt tingling where your fingers sat.

"Watch a movie with me." You said. You gave me a lop-sided grin. That grin made my heart pound so hard. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a blush on your cheek. It was gone within an instant, though, so I wondered if it was ever even there. It all was very confusing to me, to be honest. Why were you being so nice to me? Why did you ask me and not Hunk or Pidge? 

"Why should I?" You always called me a 'Tsundere'. I don't watch anime.

"Because you've been pushing yourself too hard. Com'on," You said, grabbing my wrist. "Saturday nights are for relaxation and recuperation." I rolled my eyes and let you pull me away from my desk. Come to think of it, I let you do a lot of things to me without my consent- wait. I'm not talking about rape. Sorry about that. Anyway, you put in some stupid Disney movie that I hadn't seen before. I didn't really care what the movie was, as I spent most of it dozing on the couch. When the move ended, I heard you whisper my name. The way you said it was odd, it was full of affection and caring. I didn't think much of it then, but now I think the world of it. I, being exhausted from a full week's work, was comfortable and didn't want to be disturbed, so I didn't open my eyes. Maybe I should've, but I'm glad I didn't. You didn't know I was awake, but I was.

"Keith, are you awake?" You whispered.

I didn't answer. I heard a huffed sigh and felt you get up off the couch. Suddenly, I felt you pull me onto your back in a sloppy piggyback ride. I shifted so that my head sat more comfortably on your shoulder and you froze under me, as if you were trying your best not to wake me. In the moment, I was too tired to overthink anything. You slowly walked to my bed and gently slid me onto it, pulling my sheets up onto me. I felt your presence standing over me for a couple more seconds before I heard your socked feet padding away from me. It was odd, really, for you to do that. At the time, I was convinced that you hated me. I figured that you maybe did it to be polite, or to get onto good terms with me. Now I'm rational enough to come to the conclusion that you may have liked me too. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. 

I remember waking up the next morning thinking that the night before had to have been a dream, but I looked over and saw the Mulan end credits stuck at the end, our shitty DVR whirring and trying to make the tape go on, and realized that it was real. My heart thumped out of my chest, my face felt hot. I threw on jeans and a hoodie, grabbed my staff and left. Thinking back to it, I left without even looking at you, though I did accidentally look you in the eye as I walked out the door. You looked confused and concerned, and I could've sworn that I saw a little bit of hurt in those blue eyes of yours. I walked down the steps and sat on the last one, spelling my staff into a sheathed dagger and putting it in my pocket. 

Red came up next to me and pushed her big, translucent, spirit head into my side, forcing me to rub her ears. I loved Red. She was, truly, the only thing that really kept me sane throughout the years with you. I talked to her constantly and told her everything. Seriously, I think that lion knows more about my love life than even I do. It's really too bad that you can't see her. She's absolutely gorgeous. 

I got up and walked out of the tower, going to get some coffee at our usual cafe. After the first year, I ended up becoming close friends with your close friends, so I hung out with you more than I originally intended to. I did always meet up with Pidge at Coran's Coffeehouse Cafe every morning, and I met up with Hunk for lunch most days. That was where I was headed that day. This is something you don't know, Lance. The morning after the movie, I finally came out as gay to Pidge. She didn't give much of a reaction, only saying that she expected it and that she knew I had a crush on you. I almost spit out my coffee at that. It was so surprising to me that she knew, but I didn't stop to think if I was so obvious that she figured it out. I knew she just had that intuition, though, so I didn't pry. 

Come to think of it, I doubt I ever even came out to you. I think that you just accepted that I was gay for you when we started dating and never actually questioned it. I know that you're bi, so why didn't you ask? I'm sure I'm never going to get an answer, but it's something that makes me curious every time I think about it. Here's my coming out, or whatever. I'm gay. And I know coming out in a suicide note isn't very becoming of a 'Young Mage of my stature", but at least it's not cliche, right? Better this than bring you into a rose maze, hold your hands in mine and whisper in your ear, "I'm gay," Before promptly going in for a kiss. That may be your style, but it isn't mine. Shit, if I want to come out to my boyfriend the night before I die, I think that I have the right to do so! Who even cares anymore? Not me."

Lance chuckled at Keith's boldness and morbidity. This letter, however sentimental it may be, was written by Keith. It was going to be morbid, and it was going to have a sense of humor. Lance loved how Keith just brought light to a dark situation. Well, maybe not light, but a emo, angsty darkness that was darker than the original darkness. Maybe Lance was overthinking it, but you get the gist. 

"The beginning to that day wasn't great," Keith wrote. "I woke up unnerved, ate breakfast unnerved, and went to school unnerved. After classes ended, my nerves evolved into a feeling of being watched, of something looming over and planting a deep-set dread in my soul. That day, Lance, was the first day of the Galra's war with us.

The way in which they begun was so subtle that you may not have noticed it. That transfer student, Lotor, was the conduit, I think. You may not have even known him. But I definitely did. Anytime that he came close to me or looked me in the eye, I would freeze up. My blood would run cold and I would shake from head to toe, like he had some sort of power that was unexplainable. He ended up becoming friendly with me, too, so I just dismissed the feeling as slight intimidation, given his muscular build and confident way of carrying himself. He was nice. We dated for a while, actually. He was good to me. I figured that, if I couldn't ever get with you, then I should settle for the next best thing, right? Lotor was a good boyfriend. We dated all through second year and halfway into third year, so, about a year? It was a good year. Yes, everything about him was good, but he wasn't you. He was just a rebound, I guess. 

YEAR THREE:

Up until the middle, third year went great. I had a boyfriend, I had friends of my own, and you were beginning to be more nice to me. Thinking about that short span of time makes me smile, even though what followed was hell for our school. 

Before we get into anything, let's just backtrack and think about the good times. Remember when Pidge had that pool party? You made a huge wave with your magic and I was the only one who actually deflected it enough. Pidge just got soaked and Hunk was already in the water. I didn't know (and still don't know) how to swim, so I just put up a heat shield and deflected the water. That was so much fun. I found myself wishing that I could swim, though, only because I would have loved to hang out with everyone away from the sidelines. I also wished that I wasn't so flammable, because DAMN. I had the worst sunburn. You remember that, right? I hope so. 

Now I'd like to tell you about the times that you weren't there for, and, as my former boyfriend, are entitled to know about. Lotor was a good person, so don't go after him for this, if you can even find him after... all of what happened. He did cheat on me once. I found him with Allura in a bedroom during some dumb party. I wasn't heart-broken, per say, more appalled that he would do that kind of thing to me. We talked it out, of course, but I always think back to that whenever I'm with you. I think that maybe you would do that to me too. I figured that, even if you did, I would be okay with it. If you were horrible to me, I would be okay with it. If you killed me, for any reason, I would be okay with it. Because it was you. And I could never stay mad at you for even a minute.

Mid-year, I found out that Lotor was Galra. That didn't particularly bother me, as I'm half-Galra, but I knew that everyone else thought they were tyrannical savages intent on killing anyone and everything in sight. I wondered if you'd ever thought of me like that. But I didn't think of Lotor in that way. That is, until he became what everyone else thought him to be. He left the school after a big fight that came about between us. The next day, as you remember, was the day that the Galra army attacked. We fought them off, but it was hard. There were casualties. You know what the worst of it was, though? I saw Lotor mercilessly slaughtering Romelle's brother. I can't recall his name at the moment, but I saw it in his eyes- pure, unwavering hatred. For what, I didn't know. But then his gaze turned to me and he smiled in a weird, lop-sided way, like you. But it wasn't like your smile, Lance. Not at all like yours. It may have been lop-sided, but it was maniacal and blood-thirsty, like he was intent on killing anyone who ever got in his way. He probably was. 

I remember, after that fight, I walked into the dorm-room crying. I honestly didn't know why, but I sat on the floor, curled up, and sobbed into my knees. I felt your hand on my shoulder and I could feel that you were hurting too, so I scooted over and made room for you on the floor, you sat down next to me, and, without saying a word, offered enough solace and stability to last me a lifetime. I leaned on your shoulder and let tears slide down my face. I knew that, with you, I would always be okay. I was so naive. Now I know that getting too close to you was bad for me, that being ripped away from you was going to be far harder now that I'd truly fallen for you. But I couldn't help it. And now I'm paying the price to keep you safe. I'm so happy to, though. I want you to live so badly that it hurts. Now I get to. Now I get to save you, even if I'm giving my own life. 

And now, It's 

YEAR FOUR- THIS YEAR:

And I know that it's futile to try and stay alive, but I'm going to try my best to keep on living without giving up on saving you. And because we're at the end of the line, I wanted to say this.

I wonder, my sharpshooter, if you're confused anymore. A couple moments ago, you stormed out of our dorm-room. I'm writing this to you so that I'll have one last chance to speak to you before tomorrow, even if I'm not actually dead yet. And yes, if you're reading this, I'm most likely dead. I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore. I made sure that it was me who was going to die and not you; maybe that was selfish of me, I know. And I'm sure you know this, because you've yelled at me every time I've tried to say goodbye. So this is my goodbye, Lance. I'm a dead man walking before my suicide tomorrow, so I wanted to leave you a note. To explain everything. To tell you how much I truly, truly loved you. And I did love you, Lance. I loved you so much.

This is the story of us- of our beginning, of our fights and hatred. Of my warped feelings towards you when we met and your denial of everything having to do with me. The story of then, of now. Of our first night, where we yelled at each other then didn't speak at all. Of last night, where we yelled at each other then slept in each other's arms. This is the story of us. Of you; of me. Of VMA and our friends. Of our much-too-abrupt end. I hope you're reading this, Lance. I really do; because I needed you to know all this. And if you're here, at the end, you do. I love you too much, Lance. I knew that, one day, it was going to be my downfall. And tomorrow, it will be. I'm happy about that, though. Giving my life to save yours is the perfect way to die. And now I am, and I'm so, so happy, because you're living. You're thriving. And I'm watching over you every minute of every day. So keep this in mind next time you watch Mulan, or go swimming with Pidge, or look at my staff. I'm right there next to you, cheering you on.

Yours, in life, in death, and in spirit, Keith."

Lance put the last paper down. He ordered them and stood, grabbing his jacket and leaving the dorm. He stood in the hallway for a moment before he quietly choked out a sob, sliding down the yellow wallpaper and putting his head in his hands. 

"Why, Keith?" He asked nothing. "Why would you do that?" 

'Because he loves you.'

Lance yelped and looked up, only for his gaze to be met by a pair of eyes, ones just like Keith's- slate, unyielding, and powerful. The holder of the eyes was another powerful thing, a semi-translucent lion with a soft, caring aura.

"Was that... was that you?" Lance stammered. The lion bowed her head and sat in front of Lance, looking him once again in the eye.

'I am Yorak, or as my boy calls me, Red.'

"Your boy?"

'You refer to him as Keith.'

"Oh. So you're his familiar?"

'Not necessarily.'

"Oh."

She looked away from Lance and to a wall, seemingly deep in thought.

'You are the first human who I have spoken to in hundreds of years.' She said, eyeing Lance with a stern suspicion. She stood and paced the hallway. 'Listen, and listen well.'

Lance swallowed hard and nodded jerkily. The lion's eyes narrowed, then she sighed. 

'Beyond the school's gates and under an old pine tree is Keith's mother's grave. She is not dead. Everyone may think so, but she is not. I would know- I am her familiar. Trust me. Next to that grave is a headstone. You need to go behind it and pull the red lever. If your timing is right, a doorway will open in the tree. But you have to be stealthy. If anyone were to find you, you could be killed. If you want to save him, you must go there and hide. Tonight.'

Lance's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

The lion huffed with exasperation. 'You heard me, insolent human.' She said. 'Go!'

Lance gasped at her fury and scrambled to get up and run. The lion sat again and watched as Lance stumbled down the hallway.

'I am getting too old for this sort of thing, Krolia.' She said with a nostalgic grin. Her body dissipated, sparks flying into the air as she vanished.

Meanwhile, Lance finally got into the courtyard. He ran, sweat beading down his face, across the length of it. He climbed the fence and jogged to Krolia Kogane's grave. Lance stopped in front of it, bending over to catch his breath. He looked at the grave with uncertainty. He'd always thought that her grave was gorgeous, what with the roses blooming all across it's front, but now it just gave him qualms about spending the night here. He shivered and walked around to the back of the black marble headstone, feeling uncomfortable- almost like he was a grave digger. Sure enough, though, there was a red lever on the back. He reached his hand out, then hesitated. Was he really going to do this? He breathed in a deep breath and strengthened his resolve. Yes, he was, because if this was the only thing that would save Keith, then he would gladly sit out the fight.

He pulled the lever and heard a noise. He walked back around to the front of the grave and saw a ripple in the tree's bark. It suddenly hardened again, but in the shape of a doorway. He stepped through, immediately feeling cold air biting at his skin. He pulled his jacket closer into himself, then jumped back as the doorway closed. He touched the space where it used to be, surprised to only find metal. He figured that it was some sort of portal, and went down the stairs in front of him. 

"So you're the one, huh?"

Lance froze in fear. The voice sounded vicious, stern. Almost like Red's, but more human. And like Keith's. 

"Don't just stand there. I won't bite."

He resumed walking down the stairs and was met with a large room, like a bunker. In the middle stood a woman of obviously Galran descent. She looked like Keith, all except for her golden eyes. She smiled with a knowing look towards Lance, the lack of teeth in her grin a trademark of Keith's. She was, in all seriousness, practically Keith's clone.

"Well, hello there, Lance."

Lance stared back in complete terror. If this was Keith's mother, then it had to be Krolia Kogane, the greatest Mage the likes of VMA had ever seen. He idolized this woman- everyone seemed to. And she was standing right in front of him, in a t-shirt and sweatpants. She rolled her eyes playfully and walked to the small kitchenette in the corner of the room, where a pot of tea had begun to squeal.

"Yorak tells me that you're the one who's stolen my son's heart." She said, taking the tea off the burner and pouring two cups. She looked back at Lance with a slight frown. "What are you doing over there? Come, sit down." 

She motioned to some chairs in front of the kitchenette. She then walked over to Lance and handed him a cup of tea. "Careful," She said sweetly. "It's hot."

Lance took the cup nervously and followed the woman to sit in the make-shift living room. She watched him as he tentatively took small sips of the tea, which he found quite good to be honest. 

"So," She said, narrowing her eyes and widening her grin. "Let's get to know each other, shall we?"


	12. Name-Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's not as angsty, but I liked it I guess.  
> Keith's non-selectively mute and is getting out of the hospital for the first time in a while.

Keith tip-toed along the grout of the hospital tile like a tightrope, the blaring red exit sign that was attached to the door ahead lighting his path. He hadn't been able to sleep for reasons unknown to him, and he'd decided to walk around and explore his temporary living situation. He'd done this before. The hospital, even after a year of living there, had never become a home to him. People were nice, yes, but it was in their job description to be. Some people did a little more than they had to do, like Dr. Allura and Coran, and Keith appreciated that. The nurses and Coran, who was the nurse that regularly took care of Keith, waved at him as they typed on their computers. It wasn't uncommon for Keith to walk around during the ungodly hours of the night looking for entertainment. Keith couldn't help it- the hospital bed he was given felt too lumpy to even think about sleeping, and even the quietest noise brought him out of almost-dreams. He hated the hospital. He had hated that wretched place for the whole long while he'd been stuck in it. The worst thing about it was that it was terribly lonely most of the time. Of course, Shiro would visit when he had time, and Pidge would visit after school hours, but other than that he was alone with too many too-happy nurses that he didn't know very well.

The tile was cold against the bottom of his bare feet, giving him chills that traveled up through his legs and down his spine. Despite the scarce light from the exit sign and the nurses' computers, it was difficult for Keith to see. Keith had been admitted a year ago for lung and throat problems and had been living at the hospital since to carry out his treatment. Keith hadn't even heard what was going to happen when he was told, but all he remembered was that one night when he was rushed into the ER by an ambulance. He remembered glimpses of the ambulance's metal roof as Keith, fading in and out of consciousness, heard his mother's cries. He was fifteen then. Since then, he'd fully lost his voice, his mother had died, and he'd been taken in by his half-brother, Takeshi Shirogane. He still missed his mother, though.

He didn't want to go back to his room just yet. He wanted something to do while he was awake, wanted something to occupy his wandering mind. He didn't want to think. He was tired of just sitting in the horribly uncomfortable hospital bed, sniffing the antiseptic and thinking about how shit his life was. And yet that's all he seemed to do. He walked a little more, then sighed in defeat. He turned on his heel and began to walk back though the hallway to his room. He looked up and saw his doctor, Allura, coming out of his hospital room. She looked left and smiled when she spotted him down the hall. She beckoned him over and stepped back into his room, turning on the light.

He entered the room, hunching over sheepishly. She gave him a sweet smile and fiddled with her iPad, on which Keith's records had popped up. "Good evening, Keith." She said, her british accent giving her tone a charming lilt. Keith had never loved her accent. Perhaps it was because she'd been the one keeping him here. He knew deep in his heart that it wasn't her fault, but his conscience liked to pin blame where there was none. "I see you're up and about."

Keith shrugged and looked down, taking his hands out of the red sweatshirt that Shiro had given him for his birthday. Keith loved the old thing, though it was patched up and tattered at the seams. Even so, he wore it almost everywhere. 'I can't sleep.' He signed. He couldn't speak, of course. He remembers Allura telling him that what he had was something like Aphasia, but more along the non-selective mutism variety. His larynx had been damaged in a surgery, and ever since he'd committed himself to learning sign. Luckily, Allura knew some too.

She smiled and put her iPad down on the hospital bed. She walked over to Keith and put her hand on his shoulder. "I know that you've been here an awful long time, Keith. I know you hate it here, and I'm so sorry for that. We're hoping that we can get you out of here within the next six months, alright?" Allura whispered her question, looking into Keith's eyes. Keith looked down and nodded. Allura frowned and stood straight, picking up her iPad and tapping something in.

"You're an amazing patient, Keith. I just wish you didn't have to be."

Keith grimaced and stuffed his hands into his hoodie once more. Allura walked by him on his way out, gently putting a hand on the top of his head. He clenched his fists at the motherly act. "I'm sorry." She said, walking out and turning out the light as she left.

Keith hoarsely groaned and flopped down on the bed. He picked up his phone from the nightstand and checked it for texts. Sure enough, Pidge was up. He sat up and launched the messenger app.

Pigeon: Yo I'm coming to hang out tmr do u think they could release you so that we could chill at the mall

Keith realized that the day was Friday. People were off from school on Saturdays. Oof.

Knife Boi: Sorry man cant my doctor has to run tests and shit tmr u still wanna come

Pigeon: Sure beats staying home and bingeing Netflix with Matt

Knife Boi: K

Keith put his phone on sleep and was about to plug it in for the night when he felt the tell-tale staccato vibration of a text. He turned it over, seeing that Pidge had texted him once more. He thought their conversation was done; what did she want?

Pigeon: I almost forgot

Pigeon: There's a new anonymous messenger app that you should try its called AnMe

Pigeon: You can make friends who also have too much time on their hands it could be fun

Pigeon: Just try it and tell me what you think later im gonna go work on my gadgets bye

Knife Boi: Bye

Keith put his phone on the nightstand and laid down, looking up at the ceiling. A while back, he'd put glow-in-the-dark sticky stars on there. He didn't know why, but Shiro liked them, so he decided to put them up there. They reminded him of home. When he would look at them, he was reminded of when he was young, how his mother had taken him on the roof of their modest little home. She'd count stars with him and show him where each and every constellation was. She was absolutely beautiful, brilliant, and the strongest person Keith had ever known. He missed her terribly.

He sighed and sat up, acknowledging that he most likely wasn't going to get much sleep that night, pulling his laptop off the same nightstand his phone was on. He opened it, wincing at the harsh light, and unlocked it, scrolling over to the Google Chrome icon. He typed in 'AnMe' and opened the link, being greeted with a welcome page. He created his account.

Username: StarBoy

Password: **************

Gender: Male

Surprisingly, that was all that he had to input. He created his account, instantly changing the green color theme to a red one and putting a digitally drawn picture of himself in for his account icon. He fooled around for about an hour, trying different things and typing up his bio. That's when he found it. Another account that caught his eye.

His username was Earthbound. Keith had the sudden urge to talk to him for some reason, and because of how tired his was, he actually initiated conversation.

StarBoy: Hi

That chat was silent for a couple seconds. Keith waited with bated breath. Suddenly, the bubbles for a chat came up. Keith sat straight with anticipation.

Earthbound: Hi

Keith raised his eyebrows. The guy actually responded.

StarBoy: Who are you?

Earthbound: You can call me Blue

Earthbound: Who are you

StarBoy: You can call me Red

Earthbound changed your nickname to 'Red'

Red changed your nickname to 'Blue'

Blue: Well then, Red, it's a pleasure to meet you

Red: The pleasure's all mine

Keith bit his lip, holding back a grin. He closed his laptop and hugged it to his chest happily. He'd met someone who wasn't Shiro or Pidge. Finally.

The hospital was so lonely for Keith. That is until after the night he met him. Keith spent his time messaging this anonymous boy who went by the name Blue. Every day, hour after hour, they would talk about frivolous things that didn't mean much to most people but meant the world to Keith. He told Blue of his longing to break out of the hospital, told Blue about his favorite things. He told Blue just about everything. And suddenly, from that day forth, with the discovery of AnMe, he felt a lot less alone.

——

Keith had figured out that Lance was blue the first day he met him. That day happened to be the day that he was being discharged. It was a chilly day in November, and the crisp air felt good in his lungs.

Pidge and Shiro were there, Pidge because she had been with Keith when he was admitted and wanted to be there when he got out. Keith thought that was, while being uncharacteristic of her, was a nice gesture that he would remember for a long time to come. Shiro was there because his was the house that Keith was to be living in, and while Shiro was technically Keith's adoptive father, he'd always been more like his brother. Keith loved Shiro and was so glad that he was the one to take him in. A boy, whom Keith'd never met but felt so familiar to him when he did, tagged along with Pidge. That boy's name was Lance.

They all piled into Shiro's car after leaving the hospital. It felt very odd to Keith- He'd lived in a hospital for just about two years, and though he'd been out of the hospital on walks and meals with Shiro, he hadn't truly been out for good. Shiro's leather seats felt smooth against his pale hands, the seatbelt feeling foreign on his chest. While he was used to things being on his chest, seatbelts were a whole different ballgame.

"So Keith," Keith looked up at Lance, who sat next to him in the backseat. Shiro and Pidge sat up front, Shiro driving and Pidge aux cord DJing. "What were you in for?" Lance grinned at his tacky prison joke and looked at Keith expectantly.

'I had an infection in my trachea.' He signed. Lance suddenly looked confused. Keith rolled his eyes and looked to the front seat. 'Pidge,' he signed her name, the sign for pigeon mixed with sarcasm along his temple. 'Explain, please.'

Luckily, she was watching the two in the back seat. "Keith was admitted for long-term care two years ago. He had a severe infection in his trachea and that eventually was sorted out, but they damaged his larynx. That means he can't speak without sounding like a dying hyena. Quite literally, sadly."

Lance looked to Keith with sympathy. Keith frowned. He didn't want anyone's pity. "Pidge, could you translate from here on out?" Lance asked. Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance, who shrugged in response.

Pidge looked to Keith from Lance and back again, giving Keith a knowing sneer. He'd told her that he signed up for AnMe, and she knew that he'd met someone. She also knew that Lance was on AnMe, and she knew that he'd met someone. And she knew that Keith had already figured out that Lance was 'Blue' on AnMe. She tended to be perceptive to Keith's perceptivity.

"So, Keith, are you on AnMe?" Lance asked. Keith froze. Had Lance figured it out yet? Pidge gave him a look. He shook his head. "Oh. Okay."

The car was silent once again. Keith looked out the window of Shiro's black sedan. Birds flew from tree to tree, squirrels twitching and running along the ground. He felt the car bump down the road and sighed. He was happy to finally be out of what he had become to think of as his prison, but he was also uncertain. He was somewhat nervous to be out and about for the first time in two years. He felt Lance's glances on his shoulder. He looked back to the front.

'What's for dinner?' He signed.

"Whatever you want," Shiro said. Keith smiled.

'You know what I want.'

"Oh no. Are you serious? You really want that your first night out of the hospital?" Shiro looked disgusted. Lance raised an eyebrow. Keith nodded, and Pidge and Shiro both groaned.

"What're you guys talking about?"

"Fucking Pizza Bagels." Pidge said, annoyed.

"Language, but true. Fucking Pizza Bagels." Shiro responded.

Lance laughed. It was music to Keith's ears. He laughed as well, a hoarse, rasping chortle. Shiro smiled from the front seat.

———

Keith devoured Pizza Bagels on Shiro's couch.

"Holy shit," Lance said. Keith looked up. "That's, like, your third box." Keith shrugged and went back to eating. Shiro scrolled through Netflix as Pidge nursed her coffee.

'Hey, Lance,' Keith signed, finger-signing hey and giving Lance a name-sign: the word lance but meshed with the color blue, signed right by his eye. He was attempting to speak with the older boy without the use of a translator.

Lance looked over. "Is that me? Did you sign my name?"

Keith nodded. He pointed to Pidge and signed her name, then to Shiro and signed his, the words frosted tips but with the word brother mixed in. It was fairly complicated, but when handing out name-signs Keith liked to give people things that related to their character. He also tended to mix them enough to only use one hand, but sometimes that wasn't possible. As his doctor, Allura was a mix between doctor and pretty, but he had to use two hands. Same with Coran, whose was a mix between nurse and weird. He then pointed to himself and signed his own name, the word mute with the word red. He had spent a while perfecting his.

"That's cool. What do you need?" Lance blinked his deep blue eyes, sending a chill down Keith's spine. He'd both known who Lance was and fallen in love with him on sight. He was tall, tan, and freckly, not to mention that he had that older maturity while still retaining his boyish charm. He was absolutely perfect.

'Would you like to watch Sherlock? I've never seen it, but I've heard good things.'

Lance smiled. "Sure," He said. "I love that show."

Pidge shared a knowing glance with Shiro and stood, dramatically checking her watch. "Well, I guess it's time for me to go. Glad you're back, Keith. See you next week, Lance. Have fun, you two." She walked out of the apartment without another word.

"It's getting late, so you can spend the night, Lance. I don't want you driving home alone in the dark. If you need anything, I'm in the room down the ball and to the left. Keith, yours is right across from mine." Shiro then stood and left the room, waving goodbye to both of them.

Lance didn't think anything of it, but Keith knew that the two knew about the AnMe situation and were trying to set him and Lance up. He wasn't opposed to it, per se, but he wasn't happy with how obviously they were doing it.

Shiro turned the light off as he left, and Lance clicked on the first episode, 'A Study in Pink'. Keith, honestly, was rather bored but stuck with it because Lance's face was so excited.

He began to doze off after about half an hour. I mean, he was just released out of the hospital. He'd had a busy day- he had to clean out his room and pack his stuff, and he even had to pull the sticky stars off his ceiling. It was strenuous.

The sound of British dialect reminded him of Allura and lulled him into a half-sleep. He was aware of Lance leaning back and allowing Keith to lean on his shoulder. He was aware of Lance turning off the tv. He was aware of Lance's hand gently shifting Keith so that he laid his head on Lance's lap.

He felt Lance's slender fingers running through his long hair, playing with it and lightly fiddling with his split ends. Keith hummed hoarsely and moved into to the touch, loving the real human contact after two years of nurses' hands sticking needles into his arms and hands.

"You're Red, aren't you?" Lance murmured aloud. He let his finger stray from Keith's hair to his jawline, where it lingered. "I knew it."

Keith softly smiled against Lance's thigh and fell asleep to the feeling of Lance's fingertips trailing along his face and playing with his hair.

Lance, meanwhile, was a mess. Keith was the one he'd been searching for for months, as he'd known that Red was in the area, he just didn't know where and who that person was. He'd fallen in love with Keith when he saw the younger boy sitting in his hospital bed underneath a constellation littered comforter. When Keith looked up to greet them, Lance's heart skipped a beat. Lance didn't know whether it was because Keith reminded him of someone he knew or if he just had fallen in love at first sight, but the boy looked incredibly, monumentally beautiful to Lance. So very much so that it made his kind heart ache a little. They boy's face was the perfect mix of hard bone and soft flesh, and his long, dark, soft-looking hair fell into his face in the most endearing way; Lance was, however, quite sure that he was hallucinating the boy, because nobody that perfect could ever be staring at him. And yet, those dark, pensive grey eyes bored into his soul, reminding him of rainy days and, at the same time, flames licking at the star-speckled sky. All of this was contained within a boy who was so, so loud, even when mute.

Lance studied Keith's sleeping face, an unbreakable looking porcelain, and memorized each and every feature. He wanted to see Keith smile because of him, wanted to see Keith's hands signing an 'I love you.' He wanted Keith to teach him how to sign. He wanted Keith. He wanted Keith to be with him forever.

He leaned his head back against the couch and looked at the old, falling apart popcorn ceiling. He closed his eyes and allowed Keith's steady breathing to lull him to sleep.

That next morning, Lance awoke to the sound of bacon crackling on a pan. He yawned and turned his head to where Shiro was cooking breakfast. Keith's brother turned to the sound of Lance's joints popping. Shiro smiled and gestured to where Keith still lay on Lance's lap. Lance blushed and grinned sheepishly.

Keith, as if he knew he was being talked about, blinked himself awake and pushed himself off of Lance's thigh. Half of his hair was flat and the other half stuck out. He pulled a piece of it out of his mouth and yawned, looking around.

"Morning, Keith," Shiro said, turning back to the stove. Keith nodded and waved lazily, standing and walking over to the kitchenette. He sat, groaning voicelessly and letting his head fall onto the wooden tabletop. Lance followed and sat at the same table, looking at Keith inquisitively.

"Hey, Keith," Lance began. Keith sat up and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Lance gulped. Was he really going to do this? Yes. Yes he was. "Are you Red, from AnMe? Is your username Starboy?"

Keith suddenly didn't look tired anymore. His face turned a harsh red and he looked to the table. He nodded slightly and kept his gaze down, memorizing the burnt circles that reside in the wooden planks. Why did he nod? He was so stupid! He could have just hidden it and revealed it until later. He was so goddamn dumb. He chanced a glimpse at Lance.

He was smiling. A large, excited, toothy smile that made Keith's insides warm. Why was Lance smiling? Didn't he think their situation was awkward? Didn't he not want to be friends with Keith anymore? Shiro's expectant stare felt hot against his neck. He brought a hand to the spot and rubbed it tenderly, though he didn't feel any sort of pain.

"Shit, seriously? That's awesome!" Lance exclaimed, standing and pacing around the table. Shiro left the room, leaving the bacon to cool on the counter. He didn't want to get caught up in the middle of Keith and Lance's heavy conversation.

Lance grinned at Keith, whose face screamed what? Keith stood and walked closer to Lance, indirectly confronting the situation. They both stood for a moment as Lance's eyes searched Keith's for any inkling of recognition, happiness, anything.

Lance seemed to find it after a moment, because he brought his hands to Keith's cheeks and kissed him roughly, his soft lips crashing onto Keith's own dry, chapped ones.

Keith was shocked at first, but in time closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Lance's neck, changing the mood of the kiss from harsh to slow. Lance smiled into the kiss and trailed his fingers along Keith's jaw as he'd done the night before.

They stood there until they broke apart. Lance chuckled gravelly and put his forehead against Keith's. Keith smiled and complied, hugging Lance just a little closer.


	13. Absolutely in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short-ass fuckin' fluff what can I say it's 2 am

Keith purred as Lance carded his hands through the half-asleep galra teen's hair. He sighed, shifting his head to let Lance rub the base of those ears- big, floppy, and a tell-tale sign of his emotional state. Lance smiled down at his boyfriend. He was happy that Keith was catching a break for once. Ever since Keith had whole 'oh no, i'm going through a second puberty while simultaneously going through a first one', ordeal, he'd been much tougher, much more rough around the edges. His gaze was more serious and his body tense with pent-up rage that he normally released on the training bots. Lance felt bad for his boyfriend. Not the pity type of bad, but the sympathy where he just wanted to reach into Keith's head and kiss his problems away. Keith had been forced to pilot the black lion for so long, Shiro having been missing. Then, Shiro came back. Everyone on the team was excited- that is, except for Keith. Keith didn't believe that the person who'd come back was Shiro. He looked different, he spoke differently, and he acted differently. He yelled at Keith for making a bad call on a mission, whereas the normal Shiro would have critiqued him and educated him on how to execute it better. Nobody knew how Keith was feeling until Lance found him, on his knees in the training hall, crying his eyes out. Lance was surprised at first because a show of emotion from Keith was pretty rare, if you don't count anger. But his surprise turned to awe when he found out that Keith made it to level fifteen on the training simulator, which meant that he would be able to take on an Altean soldier and put up a fair fight. But the Keith on the floor didn't make it to level fifteen. The Keith on the floor needed a hug from his boyfriend. And so that's what Lance gave him. And Keith, in all his despair, told Lance everything. Ever since then, their relationship has been stronger than ever. 

But in the present, Lance looked fondly down at his boyfriend, absolutely in love with his long, inky black hair and his scar-blemished porcelain features. He toyed with the ends of Keith's hair, wondering how it relatively kept it's length in the long amount of time they'd been in space. It'd grown, yes, but not much. Maybe to his shoulder blades. Lance's, though, had to be cut constantly. Keith stopped purring and looked up at Lance, his eyes half-lidded and drowsy. He gave a sleepy grin and leaned into Lance's hand, which was right next to his head. Lance kissed the top of Keith's head.

"We're gonna have to get up soon, Keith." Lance said, looking up at the ceiling. Earlier that year, Keith had made and given Lance glow in the dark sticky stars for them to stick on the ceiling of their shared bedroom. Keith didn't mind them being up, but Lance loved them. They grounded him on his worst nights and reminded him of home on his best. They reminded him of Keith, who'd both made them and embodied them. The way that he spoke, moved, smiled; all of that reminded Lance of the stars. When Keith cried in his arms days after Shiro returned, he had to take a second glance at Keith's face, just to make sure that there were tears in his eyes and not just stardust, flaring from his core and spilling out with a bang. It might as well have been, though.

Keith hummed in acknowledgement, but made no move to crawl off of Lance. If anything, he snuggled closer, needing the warmth and attention. Lance had realized that Keith was actually a pretty affectionate person once you got him alone. He was cuddly and sweet, happy and giggly. The steel melted out of his gaze, being replaced with swirls of love and admiration. Lance had seen smiles from Keith that he knew were saved only for him, and he'd felt the lips of the red paladin on his more times than he could count. Cracked and dry, yet soft and delicate. Lance figured that was just about how Keith was too. On the outside, Keith was a rock. He'd dedicate his life to something he believed in, and he'd sacrifice it for the people he loved. Lance frowned at the thought of what had happened prior, where Keith tried to literally kill himself to save the team and the rest of the universe from death. Keith had come back, soot-covered and guilty, to a whole slew of people praising Lotor for the help, who'd only just then showed up to fire a gigantic cannon into the very thing that Keith almost died to destroy. It was Lance, and only Lance, that pulled Keith aside to make sure he was okay. To quietly scold him for his actions. To hug him until he succumbed to Lance's love and smiled. Keith was a rock for everyone else on the team, a solid person they could lean on for support, even if it wasn't emotionally. He just had a presence that made people feel calmer. Though, he was also very gloomy and monotone, which led people to believe that his emotions were non-existent, which just wasn't true. It took an entire year and a teen coming out as an alien for Lance to realize that. 

"It's getting really late, Keith, and we haven't eaten dinner yet." They'd been cuddling since lunchtime, just chatting and trading stories from Keith's time at the blade and Lance's time without him, at the castle. They were touch-starved, Keith more so as he'd had to be professional at the BOM Headquarters. Their kisses were desperate and long while being passionate and loving. Lance was shaken out of his short revere by Keith's right ear twitching. 

"Mm... The construct of time is relative," Keith mumbled, closing his eyes once more and curling up into Lance's side, where he laid. Lance snorted quietly and ran his hand through a knot in Keith's hair. Oh, how he loved this boy. This boy was his, and his alone. No-one could take his Keith away. No-one at all. Lance smiled. Keith was so cute. No matter how much he liked to protest about that subject, Keith was officially the cutest member of team Voltron. Hands-down. Or maybe Lance was just biased. "I could say I love you in a thousand different time-zones and it would still mean the same thing, sharpshooter," Keith mumbled, trailing off. He opened his eyes once more. "So, I love you." He said, giving Lance a grin and lightly putting his hand on the Cuban boy's face. Lance smiled back and took the other teen's hand into his own, kissing Keith's knuckles one by one. Kissing every scab and scar, every bruise and every cut that may have turned up training. Keith giggled at the action, putting his head on Lance's chest again. 

"I love you too, hotshot." Lance whispered. Keith blushed lightly at the nickname. He closed his eyes once more. He heard Lance humming an old Cuban lullaby, the gentle sounds resonating deep within the teen's ribcage. Keith drifted off to Lance's lovely voice and the vibrations he felt while laying on his chest. 

Lance looked down at his boyfriend fondly, absolutely in love with his long, inky black hair and scar-blemished porcelain features. He was in love with Keith's personality, his demeanor, his thoughtfulness. He was in love with how Keith articulated each word, as if he were feeling them out as he said it. He was meticulous and often took the more tedious route, even if it was harder for him. Lance loved Keith, he loved his dancing and his voice and his smile oh, that smile.

So Keith loved Lance. Simple as that. And Keith didn't have, nor did he need reasons for loving Lance. It just happened. Sure, he loved specific things about Lance, but nothing that stood out enough to be mentioned. He just had an overwhelming sea of love wash over his emotions whenever he stood by Lance. And he was okay with that. He got flushed away without a care in the world; flushed away into Lance's arms, flushed away into Lance's heart, flushed away into Lance's love. And he was okay with that.


	14. Villain? Hero? IDK ANYMORE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finds an injured Keith in his bed, but doesn't kill him on the spot

Lance yawned as he stepped through the door, taking off his shoes and putting his keys on the hook next to the threshold. He was later than usual coming home and he was tired. Real work on top of this 'hero' business was taking a toll on him, but he really did love it. He loved his job and loved helping people, especially when it meant saving lives. He only really needed to come up with a plan to stop that fucking villain next time he pulls one of his stunts. Maybe he would talk to Pidge about it...   
He walked into his room, freezing when he heard ragged breathing. He looked around, seeing nothing to suggest that anyone was in his room, but blanched when he saw that the villain, Keith Kogane, was curled up in his bed. Fast asleep, in his bed. No broken windows, no broken locks - just there.   
A bolt of rage shot through him and he was about to rev up his powers before he got a better look at him, and... oh shit.  
He let him sleep. Tucked over another blanket. Went to the kitchen and made food, something warm to drink, and fished out painkillers. Lance's eyes flicked up when the villain made a clammy appearance.   
"Sit down," Lance said. "You're not going anywhere until I've taken a look at your wounds." The villain sat, huddled up in one of Lance's old hoodies that he'd put onto the bed for when he woke up.  
"You're not interrogating me? Or angry?" Keith muttered, his throat scratchy and small. It almost made Lance flinch- he'd never heard the villain like that before. He was always strong- stoic and hardy. But now, all hunched over and bruises and cuts, he looked sort of... pathetic, in a way.  
"Oh, I'm pissed. But shockingly enough for once, not at you. I suppose if I ask what happened, you're going to run, aren't you?"  
The villain didn't deny it. Lance sighed and placed the mug of tea in front of Keith.   
"Drink some, then I want to take care of... all of that. And save the painkillers for later."  
Keith looked away but nodded.   
As he eyed Keith, who was taking small sips of his tea, he couldn't help but be kind of surprised. I mean, of course, he was surprised to see his rival in his bed at- he checked his watch -11 o'clock at night. But he was even more so to see the villain suck up his pride like this. He had to be really freaked out to come to Lance, seeing as he was running the risk of being killed on the spot. Lance wondered why he didn't go to his brother, which would be the safer choice. Right? What exactly happened to Keith, anyway? He shook his head and caught Keith's eye, giving him a half-way scornful glance, then looking away and taking a sip of his own coffee.

\---

Keith half stumbled down the hall after Lance, his hands shoved in the pockets of Lance's hoodie. He couldn't believe that this guy was the only one he felt safe with in that moment. He heard a buzzing in his mind and looked at the wall. His shadow gave him a disappointed frown as if saying, 'How could you have lost to him? You're so pathetic. And why did you go to your enemy for solace? That's suicide, Keith." But Keith only mouthed an apology before taking a sharp right into Lance's bedroom, following him into the attached bathroom.   
They both were silent as Keith sat on the counter and Lance got out a first aid kit, opened it, and took out some peroxide.   
"Take off the hoodie," Lance muttered. Keith, though reluctant, did so, leaving his torso bare. The hero sucked in a quiet breath when he saw the number of scrapes and cuts and bruises on Keith's normally unblemished pale skin.  
"How did this even happen?" He thought aloud, catching Keith's attention. "I can barely even get a hit on you when we fight."  
Keith grimaced and looked away, saying nothing. Lance sighed after a moment and opened the bottle of peroxide and, noting Keith's wary eye on his hands, put some on a small washcloth. Wait, he thought. He knew that Keith's background wasn't exactly... conventional, but had he ever had this stuff? To Lance's knowledge, Keith barely got hurt, and if he did, he would always heal pretty quickly. He'd ask.  
"Have you ever gotten treated with this stuff?" Lance asked. Keith shook his head, inquiring what the substance was. "It's peroxide. Here-" He took Keith's hand, deciding to start with Keith's blistering, raw knuckles. "Close your eyes and hold your breath. This is gonna sting like a fucker."

Keith's eyebrows furrowed in discomfort and he did what Lance said, closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath. Lance bit his lip and hesitated for a moment. Even if Keith was his enemy, in this state he didn't want to hurt the guy. He took a breath as well and sighed it out, taking the washcloth off the counter and dabbing it to Keith's hand.  
Keith inhaled sharply through gritted teeth at the pain and flinched his hand away, but Lance held fast. "Sorry," He said. "You'll get used to it in a moment."  
The villain clenched his jaw and gripped the counter with his other hand until his knuckles were white. Lance frowned- he didn't remember the first time he got peroxide for a wound, so he wouldn't know how surprisingly painful it is. Especially when you have no preparation for it.   
He decided to distract Keith as he worked. "So what is your superpower anyway?" Lance asked as he put the cloth down and grabbed some gauze from the box. "I've never really seen it, just felt it."

Keith sighed shakily. "I call it Shadow Tinkering," He said, grasping and ungrasping his fist with the gauze. "I can manipulate shadows from a single point source- my own. That's why you never get a hit onto me when we fight. My shadow is an entity in itself, so I can make it look human as well. Plus, I can make it so that I have a sort of invisible armor around myself at all times when fighting, and I can form weapons." Keith raised a hand and a small black sphere formed in it, rolling across his palm and between his fingers. Lance reached out a touched it, surprised to find that it wasn't solid. "I used to have some fire powers, but I stopped using them since I'm not sure how to control them. My Shadow Tinkering is much less... destructive."

"That's pretty cool," Lance said, taking Keith's other hand. Keith, familiar with the pain now, took a deep breath before Lance dabbed his knuckles. "But why didn't you use that to protect yourself from... from, well, this?"

Keith sighed again as Lance pulled the cloth away. "I couldn't lay a finger on the person I was fighting. Both literally and figuratively. I never could and never will be able to. It's just... it's just that I couldn't hurt him again, and I was too weak to put my shield up in the moment."

Lance let the silence hang as he wrapped the gauze around Keith's hand and wrist. 'Him', huh? So it was a dude. Good to know. "Your power is telekinesis, right?" Lance looked up from Keith's hand at his inquiry. He nodded.

"Yeah, technically, but I also have access to all of the other ones, if I practice. Right now, I can perform telekinesis, cyrokinesis- you've seen me make ice, right? Yeah. And hydrokinesis, which is pretty self-explanatory. I'm working on photokinesis at the moment- watch."   
Lance reached over and turned off the light, sitting on the floor and closing his eyes. He clasped his hands together and exhaled slowly, pulling his hands apart. Between them was a small golden rope of light, weak but light all the same. He huffed as the light flickered out and gave Keith a hopeful grin. "Workin' on it."

"That's pretty neat," Keith said. "You might be able to get through my double with that."

"Ya think?"

"Yeah."

They smiled tentatively at each other and Lance stood once more, picking up the rag and continuing with Keith's wounds. He bound his torso and chest, along with his neck and some parts of his arms. He then finished up with brightly colored band-aids on Keith's fingers, jawbone, and nose.   
"Alright," Lance said, taking a step back. "Done."

"Thank you," Keith said. He hopped off the counter and picked up the torn up shirt he had on previously, putting it on with a grimace. It was obvious to Lance that he was still in a lot of pain, but he didn't know why Keith was getting dressed again.   
"What're you doing?"

"I'm taking my leave. You've been more than nice to me, and I'm grateful. I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I can... I can go home." Keith frowned and looked away when he said this, seemingly opposed to the idea of going to his house. Nevertheless, he sighed and left the room, Lance following after him.  
"You don't need to leave right now, Keith. It's like two o'clock in the morning. And you're hurt. I'm not letting you go out and get killed because you can't defend yourself. You can barely stand straight, let alone get yourself home," Lance said. Keith avoided his gaze. "And I don't really think that you want to go home, either. I think that whatever happened to you tonight happened in your house. Am I right?"

Keith didn't respond. Lance's offensive glare softened and he walked over, putting a hand on the villain's shoulder- Lance found it hard to think of Keith as a villain at that time. They'd had a night without fighting for the first time since they met, but it proved that they had a bond that neither of them could nor cared to explain to each other.   
He looked up at Lance with a wounded gaze, and Lance couldn't help but think that Keith looked like a kicked puppy. He didn't want to burden the hero, but that really made no sense, in Lance's eyes. Why would Keith care if he was a burden or not? Did that mean that the villain would care about Lance? And why, if so?  
"Listen," Lance said softly. "I'll let you leave if you want to. But take some painkillers before you do. You look like you feel like shit. And change back- it's cold outside, and that's an old sweatshirt of mine anyway. You can keep it."  
Why was Lance doing this? Deliberately keeping Keith at his house so that he wouldn't go out and get even more hurt? Did Lance care for Keith? And why was he giving away his sweatshirt? Why?

Keith sighed and nodded, putting the sweatshirt back on and once again following Lance to the kitchen. He sat down at the table while Lance heated up more tea (chamomile) and poured a couple pills into a plastic cup.   
"Here," Lance said, giving the pills and the tea to Keith, who swallowed them. Keith stood again and tried to go for the door, but Lance stopped him again. "Let them kick in first," He said. "We can watch a movie and then you can go."

Keith rolled his eyes but obliged, going into Lance's small living room and sitting on the far right end of the couch while Lance, the far left. "What movie do you wanna watch?"

"I don't watch movies," Keith muttered, leaning his chin on his hand. He seemed in pain and tired and anxious, all emotions that Lance could see were taking a toll on him.

"Really? Okay. Let's watch Spider-man," Lance said, pulling up Netflix. "Okay," Keith responded.

Keith yawned and rubbed his eyes. Lance looked over with curiosity. He really had never seen his enemy so docile before; never seen the guy not try to kill him. Perhaps it was because Keith knew that he was too weak to use his powers to their full extent, or maybe it was because he didn't want to.   
Lance hadn't given Keith the pain meds initially because they would have made him super drowsy, and Lance hadn't wanted Keith to be half-asleep the entire time. Lance actually had planned not to give Keith the meds and to find some Advil or some shit like that, but Keith seemed like he both needed the medication and the sleep.

About half-way through, Keith huffed and stood. "I'm leaving. I'll... I'll see you next time."   
Keith walked out the door, and Lance's calls fell on deaf ears as he walked down the sidewalk. Despite the strong painkillers, his body still ached and his mind was still fogged over with exhaustion and hurt. He sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of Lance's hoodie, which was big, worn grey-blue colored with a faded college name on it, and super comfortable. Lance'd probably gotten it from one of his older brothers, by the look of it.   
Keith didn't want to go home again. Lance got that much right. So why was he walking away from the only safety he had left, going straight into a danger zone? 

He walked for a while, eventually reaching his street and apartment. He walked up the stairs to his door and took a shaky breath before knocking. He'd left his keys at home when he ran out. He heard muted footsteps and the sound of the door unlocking. It opened, revealing Shiro, his face stony and disapproving.   
"Keith," He said, cold and uncaring. "Why are you back? I gave you enough of a beating to get the point across, right? I thought you would have gotten the hint to leave and never fucking come back."

"Takashi, I-"

"It's Shiro."

Keith's heart shattered. He may have been a villain, but his brother knew that from the beginning. Keith had never done anything explicitly wrong, like murder or rape or whatever, only stuff that would inconvenience the heroes of the city, whose ideals he didn't agree with. He didn't think it was too big of a problem, and never really caused a rift in their relationship. So why was Shiro acting so disappointed in him now?

"Why did you do this? Why are you kicking me out again?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Keith. You know exactly what you did."

"Wh-What I did? Wh-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Takashi, what are you talking abo-"

"How can you act like you don't know?!"

"Because I don't know!"

"Oh, fuck that-"

"What did I do?!"

"You really are going to stand there and deny it, huh?" Shiro yelled. "You're gonna stand there and deny that you killed our fucking father! I knew it was your fault, and when I got the confirmation today that you were the one who started the fire, I couldn't even be surprised!"  
Keith's eyes widened. Memories of their house in the desert, burning to the ground because Keith couldn't control his budding powers. Memories of the smell of smoke, ash and burning flesh. The flesh of his father, of his brother's arm, of the bottoms of his own feet and the skin on his hands as he tried to free his dad from a mound of wood that had fallen on his back- but it was too late. His dad was already dead.  
By the time The ambulance got there, Shiro could barely keep his eyes open and Keith, 9 at the time, was screaming for both his father to wake up and for Shiro to stay awake. He could hardly stay awake himself. He couldn't remember most of that day, but the memories that had been burnt into his memory lingered behind his eyes. He bit his lip.

"Ta- Shiro, I-"

"Oh, please. Tell me exactly what happened. I want to know so that I can put you behind fucking bars, prick."

"I- I didn't mean to start it-- I- It was an a-accident! I didn't mean to..."

Shiro scoffed a dry laugh of disbelief. "You really think I'm gonna believe that? You're a villain, Keith. It's what you do. I shouldn't have been so quick to trust you again. I knew that all you were was some piece of scum made just to make things worse for other people. You're a fucking murderer, you know that? Regardless of if you meant to start the fire or not, you still murdered our- no, he's not your dad. He's my dad. And you killed him. You. No-one else. You," Shiro barked at Keith, stepping out of the doorway and backing Keith into the wall behind him.

"Shiro, I'm sorry; I-"

"Save it. I never want to see you again."

"What?! Shiro-"

"Leave!"

"Shiro-- Takash-" Keith was cut off as he was punched in the jaw. He fell to the ground and groaned, holding his cheek.   
"Leave!" Shiro practically screamed at Keith, who looked up with wide, afraid eyes. "And don't come fucking back!"  
Keith stumbled up and fell down again, suddenly dizzy. He coughed and ran past Shiro, bracing himself on a wall and staggering down the hall. He heard the door slam behind him and he choked out a sob. He hadn't meant to kill his dad- he hadn't meant to. He didn't want to be a murderer; a villain, yes, but a murderer... that was too far.   
The pain and exhaustion and hopelessness and grief came over him like a thunderous wave, buckling his knees and forcing him to the ground. He choked out a strangled sob and put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry..." He whispered through tears. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry."

He out of nowhere felt a familiar hand on his shoulder and heard muffled words whispering next to his ear. At the moment, he thought them to be menacing and yelped, setting off his powers and enveloping himself in a shroud of shadows. He thought he was safe for a moment, but then some light peeked through. He sobbed again as he saw Lance's face, scrunched up in concentration while he used his photokinesis to open the shadows up and get to Keith.

He lifted the spell and allowed Lance to get close to him, burying his face in Lance's shoulder. "I didn't mean to-- I didn't- didn't want to-" Keith stuttered out. "P-Please, I-"

"Calm down. You're alright," Lance murmured, cutting Keith off. He held the villain a little tighter. "You're fine. I'm here."

"I-I-"

"Shh. Com'on. Let's go back."

Keith hiccupped but nodded, allowing Lance to take his hand and lead him out of the apartment building to his beaten up blue car. He sat down and wiped lingering tears from his cheek, hissing when he came into contact with his forming bruise.   
"It was him, wasn't it? Your brother?" Lance asked softly. He put the car into reverse and left the parking lot.

Keith looked out the window and grimaced, sniffing and putting his head in his hands on the armrest.

Lance sighed. Even if Keith was a villain, Lance knew for sure that nobody deserved this kind of treatment, and from a family member no less. Lance didn't know much about Keith overall, but he knew that Keith wasn't someone who could be pushed around too easily. It was very surprising to Lance that Keith was so broken right then. And what made Lance so willing to help? A part of him still screamed that he shouldn't care; that Keith was the enemy. But every other part of him yearned to hold Keith so tightly that he wouldn't fall apart.   
They didn't speak on the ride back. It was a tense quiet, but it was comfortable in a way. Lance really couldn't describe it.

He pulled into his driveway. "Keith, we're home," he said. He got no response. "Keith?" He asked again. He took a closer look and saw that Keith had fallen asleep, his body relaxed and his breathing even and deep. He was probably tired from the meds, and the emotional instability he was feeling. Lance frowned in sympathy. He didn't know what it was like to not have much family to begin with, then to be hated by the only family you had left. He didn't understand how Keith could have been feeling. The experience Keith was feeling felt so foreign to him, like he was on the outside looking in. He might as well have been.   
Lance opened the other car door and used his powers to pick Keith up and gather him onto his back. Keith hummed softly and gripped the fabric of Lance's jacket weakly. They got inside and Lance put his keys on the hook, going straight for the bedroom. He gently put Keith on the bed and covered him with the comforter. Lance changed into some pajamas and got onto the other side of the bed, keeping his distance from Keith.   
He lay there for a while, listening to Keith breathe. He wondered why he was going so out of the way to help this villain, but Lance also remembered that Keith wasn't too bad to begin with. He just disagreed with what some of the heroes in the city believed in, so he was alienated. That's probably why he chose to become a villain- to stand up for what he believed in while being given a platform to do so. That's smart.

Lance was just about to drift off when he heard some mumbles coming from Keith, then a sharp gasp as he sat up. Lance watched as Keith heaved breaths, his hand to his mouth. He looked around, probably wondering where he was, then locked eyes with Lance, who was staring at him with concern. Keith huffed out a shaky sigh and looked to the ceiling, blinking away tears.   
"What was it about?" Lance murmured, not expecting a response. I mean, why would he? Keith hadn't said anything about anything to him the entire night.   
Keith looked over at him. He grimaced and wrapped his arms around himself protectively.   
"The night I killed my father."

Lance sucked in a breath in surprise. He then narrowed his eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised. He shouldn't have trusted the villain so easily. He sat up a little straighter and started to rev up his telekinesis, maybe to throw Keith against a wall or to suspend him in midair while Lance punched him.   
Keith looked at him with sadness and disdain, tears welling up in his eyes as he clenched the comforter with tight fists. Lance's anger softened and his powers died back down. "I didn't want to, I swear. I just... I couldn't control my powers and I accidentally set the house on fire. I didn't m-mean to..." Keith trailed off, hunching over into himself and whining, tears sliding down his face.

"Keith, c'mere." Lance reached out and grabbed Keith's wrist, tugging him to his side. Keith obliged, lying down and curling into Lance's chest. He cried quietly and Lance could feel hot tears staining the front of his shirt.   
"I d-didn't mean t-to..." Keith said quietly through sobs. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry..."   
Lance shushed him and raked his hand through the villain's hair. He twisted his face up in sympathy when he heard Keith whimper the name of his brother, only to break down into sobs again. Seriously- if Keith was this shaken up about this, there had to be some heavy tea between him and his brother.

"Keith, if it was an accident, then you need to stop beating yourself up over it. It wasn't your fault."

"Of course it was!" Keith cried, sitting up and looking at Lance with anger- not at him, Lance noticed. At himself. "It was me who developed the powers! It was me who had that fucking nightmare! It was me who set the house on fire! It was me who couldn't pull dad out! It was all my god damn fault! And now Takashi hates me because he realized what a fucking monster I am!"

Lance sat up next to Keith, pulling him into an embrace. But thinking back to what Keith said, something stood out to him. "Your powers were set off by a nightmare?"

Keith sobbed again, leaning heavily into Lance, who took it as a yes. Lance held him tightly, furrowing his brows. The hero closed his eyes and sighed.  
After a while, Keith's cries tapered off into silent tears, sliding down his face and dripping from his chin. Lance sighed in relief and ran a hand through Keith's hair, who yawned anxiously.  
"Are you okay?" Lance whispered. Keith hid his face in Lance's chest, holding onto the soft fabric like it was a lifeline.

"No," Keith murmured back.

"Okay."

Lance began to hum something, soft and sweet, putting his head on the top of Keith's and holding him close. Keith yawned again and cuddled further into Lance, closing his eyes and listening to Lance's voice.   
"I don't know what to do, Lance," He muttered.

"About?"

"Everything."

"You don't have to know right now. Right now you can chill. We can figure all of it out tomorrow. Don't worry."

Keith pushed slightly from Lance's chest and looked him warily in the eye. "We?"

Lance smiled down at Keith and brushed some hair from his face. "We."   
Keith gave a smile back, and albeit watery, it was genuine. He sighed and settled once again and looked out the window, at the moon and stars through the drapes, and listened to Lance as he began to hum once again. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut and he didn't object as Lance pulled him to lie down. He felt Lance's hand in his hair, his lovely voice in his ears, and was happy to fall asleep against the hero's chest as it vibrated with each note that he hummed.

Lance sighed. This was gonna be hard to explain to the rest of the team.


	15. Whump #1: Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> referenced from a short, maybe 300 word drabble that I can't find now for the life of me
> 
> the team does an exercise, but it goes haywire when Keith can't think of what to show them.

Keith took a bite of his cereal, not really listening to the conversations had by the other members of the table. He was tired- he'd trained all of his free time away the day prior to this one, and he hadn't gotten that much sleep the night before. Or the night before that. And the night before that one, too. So just about thirty-six hours of no sleep. Great.  
A low buzzing filled his ears now and again, and he wondered if he had tinnitus. And no matter how many painkillers he took, he couldn't shake that dull ache in the base of his skull. The painkillers couldn't put him to sleep, either. He felt awful, he could barely think straight, and even worse, he'd have to train with the rest of the team that day. Wonderful.

"-th? Keith!" Keith snapped out of his zone-out when Shiro called his name. He sat up straighter. "You were zoned out. Are you okay?" His brother asked with concern. 

"Yeah. I'm just a little tired, is all," Keith responded with a weary smile.

"I hope you're rested enough to train?" Shiro said, his tone questioning even though it was phrased like an order. Keith nodded. "Of course."

"Good," Shiro said. "Anyway, today Allura has some bonding exercises planned."  
Oh. Bonding exercises. Not too bad. It'd probably be another one of those helmet things where they needed to metaphorically form Voltron. At least it wasn't melee or PvP. He would give just enough to form his lion and block the rest off. The rest of the team didn't need to know his entire life story- they'd seen enough when he wasn't prepared the first time. He'd be fine.  
Allura stood and drew everyone's attention to her. Keith had to admit, despite his being gay, she was a very pretty woman. He could see why Lance was drawn to her, in an odd sort of way.

"Today's bonding training will be a little different," she said. "Each lion has a respective element that ties into their very being. Upon forming Voltron, or perhaps even before, that element was tied to you, too. Today we will be bonding not only with each other but with our lions; we'll learn more about each other through the tie to our elements."  
Interesting. Keith found the exercise's description interesting. Perhaps he'd have some fun with it- he wondered what his element was.

He put his bowl in the dishwasher and followed after the group, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket and watching them from behind. He didn't want to join in on the conversation- he was too tired to deal with their bullshit. Well, not bullshit. It was just nice to get away every once in a while, and he hadn't gotten a chance to in a while. Oh well. He'd take Red out on a fly around their star system on the next day off, he thought. Maybe then he could get some sleep and chill without constantly having to look over his back to see if anyone was watching him relax. That was the thing with Keith- he couldn't have other people around when he was letting loose, even a little bit. Maybe it was because he had trouble with the thought of being caught off guard, but he was too on guard all the time to have that fear. Despite this, though, he had the constant suspicion that someone was watching him whenever he tried to wind down, and that suspicion only amplified under stress and lack of sleep.  
Hence, Keith was pretty on edge.

They all entered the training deck, taking their helmets from Allura and sitting down.  
"Okay, paladins. This exercise is all about empathy. If we know what our teammates have gone through, we will better understand how to work together when times get tough again. Now, this will be very personal, so I would like all of you to really let go of what's holding you back and give your teammates everything," She said. Keith internally scoffed. Everything, huh? As if. "Who would like to go first?"

"I'll go," Lance said, seemingly excited. Keith wondered what the blue paladin's element was, and suddenly he was being pulled into a dream of-

water.  
Of course, it was water. He... no, they were all as one.  
The sun shone and laughter fills the warm air. They felt the sand, damp and sticky between their toes, and smiled, taking off towards the sea with unrestrained vigor. Leaping into a wave, they submerge themselves. Powerful strokes carry them deeper into the sea and they glance skyward. Everything in muted and distorted in the best way and the ocean cradles them in her tides like a mother's embrace. They surface and smile as the sun shines hot on their skin.  
They exist. And it shifts.  
Little moments pass by like seafoam- winning their swim meet's championships, parties at the beach with weed and beer and happiness and the ocean, right there to see it all. The chlorine burns in their eyes, and yet they smile once more, splashing their cousins in the pool by their house.  
They walk by on their way to school.  
They walk by on their way home.  
They take off their shoes and roll up their pants, just to feel a little bit of the cool water on the soles of their feet.  
They watch the sunrise with a partner, kissing their soft lips until the sky turned a light pink.  
They jump off the pier at sunset.  
Of course, it was water.

Their consciousnesses separated once more and they took off the helmets, blinking as if they just spent hours in front of a screen. Keith cast a glance over at Lance- his smile was small, nostalgic as if he'd been reading a letter from an old friend. Keith looked down.  
Pidge went next, and their existences merged once more.

A small succulent, sitting stagnant on the corner of their desk. A flower bed that belonged to their mother, tended to right outside the door to their house. Vines that wrapped around the perimeter of their walls, always returning no matter what they did to try and get them to leave. So they let them stay.  
Life.  
Late nights, watching the sunset from their room, the big, floppy leaves from the vines almost getting in the way of the sun, but instead giving it a filter that turned their room a soft green. The succulent, growing and growing until eventually, it reached the windowsill, brightly colored flowers growing along its arms. Going to school and waving at their mom from the sidewalk, who was gardening. Botany classes and agriculture classes, bees and bugs on even more beds of rosebuds at their school, pollinating and helping them to grow. Those same bees, making honey for the school to sell as a fundraiser.  
Their brother, his room filled with lush greenery, in hanging pots, in little cups to experiment with, in large containers because he ran out of pots; all so living and real. They would often go to their brother's room, not only to chat with him but to silently admire the life that seemingly sprung up out of nowhere in there. They always said that they hated nature, but their brother saw right through that.  
That's why he got them the cactus for their birthday.  
And after their brother disappeared, they had to continue to care for his plants, or he'd get mad that they'd all died. So they did. And they flourished under their hand. Apparently, they had a green thumb, of sorts. They chose to ignore this fact, instead focusing on when their brother would come back.  
Everything, filled with life, and even still, they chose to ignore all that in exchange for living behind a screen, with a succulent sitting on their desk, and a long rope of vines, twisting its way around their house.

Keith blinked his eyes open, immediately locking his gaze with Pidge's half-melancholy one. Pidge's memories were shorter. Much shorter than Lance's. And still, it gave some nice insight into what Pidge's life was like outside of Voltron.

"Keith, how about you go next?" Hunk said.

Keith, already zoning out, looked up, startled for a moment. "What?"

"You should go now. I'll go after you, and then Shiro can go, and we'll be done," Hunk said again, giving Keith a sunny smile. Keith returned it with a wary one and sighed, looking away.  
"Alright."

They all close their eyes and shift into the consciousness of one another's dreams, Keith hoping he could pull it off.  
But it all goes to shit. Keith has no idea what to show them, and he really was too exhausted to block anything from their minds.  
Red's element may have been fire, but Keith doesn't know how someone can be connected to that type of thing. The only thing that comes to mind is pyromania, and-

Arson.

Fuck.

Everything begins to feel warm. Too warm. No! Control it. Control it NOW! Don't let them see. Everything begins to fade into existence... Nononononononono-

The fire is broadcast on the news in the diner where they wait for their dad to pick them up after school. The sun sets outside the window, and it looks to them like that very same fire- burning hot and menacing.

They recognize the team responding to the blaze. It's their father's unit. It's a five-alarm fire, and they're calling in reinforcements from the surrounding counties. Pretty concerning to them, but they know it's nothing their dad can't handle.

Flames lick the steadily darkening sky and its arms stretch far and threaten nearby properties. They watch with bated breath as the building collapses. Nobody emerges from the rubble. But they know that their dad is a goddamn hero. They know that he's gonna stand up from the rubble, come pick them up, and tell them the inevitably awesome story of what had gone down. So they wait for their dad.

And they wait.

And wait.

And wait.

It's way too late when the owner calls the police.

Too busy trying to deal with the aftermath of the disaster, nobody shows up for a while.

The owner lets them sit behind the counter. Gives them a donut and some hot chocolate. They don't eat the donut, nor do they drink the chocolate. They felt rather queasy with worry, if they were being honest.

Two cars pull up. A policeman walks in. A slender woman with red hair, her hazel eyes shining against it like embers in an orange flame, follows him through the glass door. The bell chimes when it closes.

The policeman talks to the owner.

The woman crouches to their level, her hair flowing over her shoulders and obscuring their view of the owner's face as the policeman breaks the news. "Are you Keith Kogane?" she asks, her tone sweet as the donut and chocolate may have been. They narrow their eyes at her.

"Yes," they answer. "Why? Who are you?"

They know they aren't supposed to talk to strangers, but she is with a cop- their dad always told them that cops were the good guys, so why wouldn't someone who is with a cop be good?

"My name is Cheryl Smith," she answers, furrowing her brows in worry at them. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Keith, but everything is going to be okay."

Pain. Sudden, heart-wrenching pain.

Fire, licking their- no, his foot and agony climbing their- no, his! ankle. Hot and burning and everywhere and they- HE can't get away.

Your dad was a real hero, son.

He keeps running off.

Get in the car, Keith.

Stop him! Grab him.

...

Oh, Keith, why did you come here? Of all places...

...

They stand before charred remains of what they know was once a building. It's a husk now. Steel rods, splintered wood, and broken brick litter the ground. They smell the acrid odor of putrid, burnt flesh, still wafting anew in their noses. The woman is gone; they are alone.

Everything is blackened, and the blackness takes everything from them and then sucks them in too.

It's dark and awful and lonely and it hurts. Hurts him, hurts them.

The fire burns them up and leaves them damaged beyond repair. And all that remains is him. It must because nobody wants them/him/them/HIM. That must be why he is alone right now.

The intensity of their- HIS feelings rekindle the embers. Rekindle the emotions that once were snuffed, buried deep down under dirt and debris and scar tissue. And as he stands there, still one, yet separate from them, they all feel it.

It's a lifetime of burning and going out and burning and going out and he just wants it to stop he doesn't care fuckin' freak how it can have him blowing away like cinders in the wind just maybe he died to get away from you make it stop make it stop you gonna fight back punk make it you destroy everything don't you stop make it stop what a waste stop make it stop stop stop stop -

It stops.  
Pidge's helmet landed with a clatter across the room, and the exercise was over. Keith opened his eyes and saw Shiro, paler than he'd ever been, staring him in the eye with concern. Hunk looked like he was going to vomit, Pidge looked like she was going to cry, and Lance... oh, Lance... holding his hand to his mouth and his other to his chest, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt, looked like he couldn't breathe.  
Maybe he couldn't breathe through all that smoke.

Keith grimaced and looked down at his shaking hands. Shit.

Keith stumbles to his feet and is gone before they can shake themselves out of the stupor they were in; out before any of them could call his name.

He speeds down the hall and, upon deeming himself far enough away, ducks into the nearest room- an empty yet cramped storage closet- and sits in the corner. He felt disoriented. And exhausted. Perhaps if he were less tired, he would have been able to stop what had just occurred. Or maybe he wouldn't have wanted to. Who was to say?

He felt tears dripping down his cheeks and he frowned, putting a hand to his face and pulling it back. He was crying- why was he crying? He'd already cried all those tears years ago. He'd finished with that. He didn't even feel like crying, so he didn't know in the slightest why those tears were brimming and spilling over like the water in Lance's memories. Still confused, he choked out a sob and curled into himself. Why couldn't he stop it? He hurt his team because he couldn't control his own memories. It was his fault that they looked so unsettled, so horrified, so...  
He didn't want to say broken, because they weren't broken yet. They were cracked at their very edges- something that could be easily fixed with time and effort. Keith had already been broken. Shattered, in fact. He'd spent years piecing himself back together on his own, and he was still missing integral parts to his structure. So they weren't broken yet- and Keith didn't want to be the one who did it.  
Maybe that's why he was crying.

He put a hand- violently shaking and pale as a sheet- over his mouth to muffle his sobs. He heard someone call his name and he pressed harder against his lips in a failed attempt to stay silent. He needed a game plan. He couldn't talk to them right then- he would be worse off than how he started. He frowned and a couple more tears fell from his jaw.  
Okay. He would wait til the hallways were clear, then he would leave the closet and go to his room. Yeah- a good plan.  
He waited for a good fifteen minutes, and when he was sure that they'd given up, he stood shakily and put his hand against the wall, slowly walking out of the closet. His stomach roiled with nerves and dizziness. He coughed into his fist and looked both ways, checking to see if anyone was there. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he started heading down to his room, which surprisingly wasn't that far from the closet.

He turned the corner and froze. Lance was standing there, arms crossed, tapping his foot anxiously. It took everything that was in Keith not to hack out a lung in surprise at the sight of him, only because he felt like shit and didn't want to deal with that right then. He sighed and started walking, resolving to ignore Lance's questions and lock himself in his room to get some rest. Maybe not sleep, but rest.  
That... didn't quite work out.

The minute he stepped out from behind the wall, he began to feel unbearably dizzy. He groaned, catching Lance's attention, and staggered to the wall, on which he leaned heavily. Lance turned with some angry questions as to why Keith ran off like he did, but they died in his throat when he saw Keith hit the wall. He ran over to the red paladin, supporting him as he slid to the floor.  
"Easy..." he whispered, as if he knew Keith had a headache that was bordering on a migraine. "Easy... there we go- just lean on me. It's alright. Easy..."

Keith slumped onto Lance, his field of vision foggy and his head swimming. The lights were too bright, the sounds- the usually soothing hum of the castle and the quiet whir of the air conditioning -were much too loud for him. He whined and buried his head in Lance's chest (not really registering who he was with) trying to get away from it all. He felt a tentative hand run through his hair and he leaned into it.  
"You're okay. I got you. You're fine," Lance murmured. Keith listened to the sound, trying to hear it above all else, and closed his eyes. God, the slight pressure in his hair and the roll of Lance's accent and the warmth that Lance emitted made him feel less stressed than he had in weeks. He sighed with the sudden relief. Why hadn't he come to Lance sooner? (Not that he'd come to Lance deliberately, in any case)

Lance, meanwhile, was confused about what he was doing. He knew Keith had seemed off for those past couple days, but didn't want to say anything about it and start a fight. He knew that everyone else was stressed too, so he thought that maybe Keith had something on his mind. It wasn't his business. anyway. So he ignored it. But he couldn't anymore, with Keith against his chest and slowly falling asleep as Lance pet his head and mumbled reassurances to him. This was... definitely different from anything the two had ever done. It wasn't bad, per se, but new. He sighed. What was he going to do? Whatever. He got out his transmitter and was about to dial Shiro, but he hesitated. He'd have to wake Keith to answer questions, and Keith looked so tired- all bags under his eyes and kinked eyelashes. He swallowed hard and put his transmitter back into his pocket.

He shifted so that he could gather Keith onto his back, and while the other teen shifted, he didn't wake. Damn. Keith was a light sleeper, so he had to be really tired not to wake up so easily. Lance headed to Keith's room, but upon realizing he didn't know the password and not wanting to wake Keith, headed over to his own room and went inside.

He laid Keith down on the bed and pulled the blanket to his neck, watching as Keith hummed in annoyance at the loss of warmth. Lance kneeled and observed how Keith's eyelids fluttered with dreams, how his fingers twitched and how his eyebrows furrowed from time to time. He lifted his hand up and brushed some hair from Keith's face, evoking another, more contented hum to come from the smaller teen.  
What Lance saw in Keith's dream was... to be honest, pretty horrifying. He could feel Keith's anguish, how he tried to hide it under a stoic attitude and recklessness, how he put so many band aids over the wound that when they all ripped off at once it was agonizing. If Lance felt that badly, he could only imagine how Keith felt.

He sat down next to the bed, leaning on the nightstand, and took out his transmitter, opening up a game. He didn't really know why he was staying, but he did know that Keith really needed someone, and if that someone had to be him, then so be it.

—

Keith gasped awake, hours later, to a dark room, residual memories from the nightmare sticking to the backs of his eyelids. He looked around, seeing Lance, asleep, leaning on the nightstand next to him. Wait. Where was he? What happened. He looked around again. This wasn't his room- it was Lance's. How'd he get to Lance's room? And why was he there in the first place?

Oh yeah. The exercise.  
He'd passed out afterward with Lance, hadn't he? God damn it. Now he'd have to answer all of the team's stupid questions about it. He needed to relieve some stress.  
He stood, pulling his boots (which Lance had presumably taken off) on his feet and stepped carefully over Lance. He took off his jacket and left it on the bed, shivering against the cold of the castle. Whatever. He'd be warm soon enough anyway. He left the room quietly and walked down the hall towards the training deck, noticing that it was pretty late. Probably two am, if he had to guess. He sighed and padded down the stairs to the deck, entering and turning on the lights. He blinked blearily against the headache that threatened in the back of his skull and grabbed his bayard, activating the sword.  
"Training level one!" He called.

"Confirmed," he heard the smooth, robotic voice of the castle and saw the floor open up, bots coming up from the holes with staffs. He fell into a fighting stance and released a yell of frustration as he began to fight.

—

Lance awoke to the sound of the door opening. Keith staggered in and looked him in the eye, furrowing his brows in what seemed like perplexed comprehension.  
"Where'd you go?" Lance asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes blearily.

"Was training," Keith mumbled in response. He went into the bathroom with a change of clothes he probably got from his own room. He closed the door and Lance stretched, waking himself up.  
Keith emerged, beat up and bruised, and grabbed his jacket, starting to leave the room.  
"Where are you going?" Lance stood and followed Keith outside, watching as he walked down the hall.

"Back to my room?" He phrased it like a question, as if it were obvious. Lance, still halfway in his own room, raised an eyebrow.

"You think I'm gonna let you leave without an explanation?" Lance asked incredulously. He saw Keith blanch and avert his gaze.  
"I... What are you talking about?" He muttered, clenching his fists at his sides. Lance sighed and stepped fully out from the threshold, walking up to Keith and putting his hands on the red paladin's shoulders.

"Keith, you need to talk to us. And if not the rest of the team, talk to me," Lance murmured, trying to catch Keith's gaze from the floor. Keith grimaced and stepped away.  
"I'm fine," he snapped, his tone lackluster as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"I never said you weren't," Lance responded. Keith scoffed and silenced once more. "But for the record, you aren't."

"Ugh," Keith exclaimed. "Fuck this!" He practically yelled. "Fuck this, fuck you, fuck Shiro and Hunk and Pidge and Allura and Coran and my fucking mom, who couldn't even stand to deal with me after meeting me once! Fuck my goddamn Galra blood, fuck my shitty shack in the middle of the fucking desert, fuck the Garrison and fucking Iverson! Fuck my goddamn motherfucking dad for leaving me alone when he was all I had left, and fuck my extended family who stuck me in the system because they didn't want me! I fucking hate this. I fucking hate my fucking life. I can't do this anymore. Fuck this. I'm out. I quit."

Lance furrowed his brows. "Keith, wait-"

"No! Leave me the fuck alone! I know you'd rather do that, anyway. You don't have to deal with my shit anymore. I'm taking an escape pod and I'm— I'm just gonna go."

He turned and began to walk away, then froze. Lance suddenly felt that something was wrong, so he ran up behind Keith to see what the other was staring at. It was... nothing? He looked at Keith, who was glaring intently at nothing.  
"Keith? What're you looking at?" Lance asked. Upon getting no response, he huffed in frustration. "Earth to Keith..."

"Get out of here," Keith whispered, almost inaudibly. He turned to Lance, and the fear in those eyes shook the blue paladin to his core. "Get out of here! Now, before you die too!" He cried, his voice raspy. "I can't lose you too!"

"What? Keith, what're you talking about-" 

"Go!"

Lance didn't go. He grabbed onto Keith's forearm and held on as the other teen struggled. "Lance, please just listen to me this one fucking time instead of making everything so difficult! Go, please!" His yell was choke doff by a sob.

"Keith, what do you see?" Lance said intensely, trying to get a grasp on what Keith was experiencing. "What's down that hall?"

"You don't see it? Lance, I swear to fucking god, you need to go, the fire-" Keith looked down the hall once more and was dumbfounded to see nothing. "What...? It was just there..." He looked around, then back into Lance's eyes. "The fire was right there, Lance, I swear."

"Keith, are you okay?" Lance prodded gently, trying to get inside Keith's head just a little bit. 

"I- I'm fine, I just... I don't know what happened- I saw fire coming down the hall, and like, it wasn't coming to me. It was going toward you, like it had a mind of its fucking own..."

"You were hallucinating, Keith. It might be residual effects of the exercise."

"But, I-"

"Keith, come on. You're going back to bed," Lance said. His hand still gripped Keith's forearm, so he turned and tugged the smaller of the two back into his room.  
"Lance, no, I'm fine-"

"Bullshit. Com'on."

As they walked back down the hallway, Keith's entire body started to feel like lead. He suddenly felt himself staggering again, his eyes fluttering shut as Lance took methodical steps in front of him. But wait. No. He wasn't going to fall the fuck asleep while standing. What the fuck kind of person does that?

"Keith, are you alright?"

"'m fine."

Wow, that was a huge one-eighty from about five minutes before, Lance mused. Keith went from being angry and afraid to slurring and falling asleep standing up. That's a new one for Lance to see.  
"Keith, com'ere," Lance said, pulling the other teen into an embrace, feeling Keith slump into his chest again. 

"Jesus Christ, you're like a whumpee..." Lance muttered as he gathered Keith up on his back once more.  
Keith, not fully asleep, hummed and grabbed the fabric of Lance's hoodie and buried his face in Lance's shoulder, smelling the castle's detergent, that odd rain from the last planet they were on, and the faintest, most trace scent of the ocean.  
He sighed and breathed deeply, lulled to sleep with each step from Lance.

\---

"I can't lose you too!"

Interesting. That's what Keith had said when Lance wouldn't listen. And that's what Pidge saw when she scanned the security footage that night. It intrigued her, since she was pretty negatively effected by Keith'd dream, but the unexpected was to be expected in experiments, and that's what drew her into this exercise initially. A chance to study her teammates.  
Of course, her teammates weren't specimens in a lab for her to tinker with- no, they were much better than that. They were living, thinking, breathing. They were rash and unpredictable- more variables for her to input. This thing with Keith was merely a missing variable, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or, more specifically, the bottom of how Keith felt about the issue. She meant, Keith made it very clear that he felt horrible about his father's death, made it clear that he blamed himself and isolated himself from others because of it, but she didn't know why Keith would react like he did in that moment with Lance when given social stimuli. 

She sighed and leaned her head on her hand, watching as Keith fell into Lance's arms for the second time that night. Keith was an interesting... case study, to say the least.


	16. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Keith Kogane's life but you're Keith Kogane

'I was alone  
All my life, I'd been alone.  
Missing something;  
And so I searched.  
And for what I searched, I found  
In you.  
In you, I found what I'd been looking for.  
In you, I found solace.  
In you, I found refuge.  
In you, I found home.'

You.

You stopped bothering to remember names, as everyone who entered your life had a way of disappearing.  
Your name is Keith Kogane, and all your life, you have walked alone.  
You do remember a time when you weren't though; you remember just a moment. Just one moment with your mother. Your mother- a beautiful, ethnic, spitfire of a woman with long stark black hair, like yours, down to her thighs, and pale skin like the moon's silver. You remember sitting on a beach with her when you were about seven, leaning into her shoulder as she pointed out the constellations you had been studying all week in preparation for this trip. You remember her smile as she told you, "Every star is different, Keith. Every star is special. Every star deserves a wish." So the both of you wished away on stars until you fell asleep and she took you inside. 

She was gone the next morning. You remember asking your father where she was. He crouched down and smiled at you forlornly. "Your mom is going to help people," He told you.  
You'd asked where. "The stars." He told you. You stopped believing that six days later, when you lost your father to a different kind of 'stars'.

You started believing it again at sixteen.

You met Takashi four years later, when you were eleven. By then, you had already learned the ways of the foster care system and absolutely knew that this home wouldn't be any different, until you met Takashi. Takashi Shirogane, your foster brother, told you to call him Takashi from the day you met him. You were shocked. You didn't- at least, not to his face.

His family adopted you into their own. 

Takashi was accepted into the Garrison two years later. You begun to study. A year later, you got a scholarship. You loved the Garrison. Save for the people, the place was incredible. And the Garrison thought you were incredible as well. You were amazing in all the simulations, and you were unrivaled in the classroom, too. While all of your high school age peers were struggling through trigonometry, you were doing quantum physics. And on top of it all, you had a natural affinity for flying, The Garrison had great things planned for you, and you knew it.

Then, the next year, the Kerberos mission failed. Takashi, along with two other pilots- Matt Holt, with whom you'd grown quite close, and his father, Samuel Holt, disappeared. You were devastated. You stopped eating, stopped speaking, stopped studying and going to classes; you were inconsolable. The Garrison did know of the relationship between you and takashi, so they allowed some leeway.   
But eventually, you found yourself slumped in the comfortable chair of Senior Officer Iverson's office. He told you that he was sorry that the investigations had stopped, as they couldn't find the bodies or the source of the mission failure, and that Takashi and Matt and Samuel had been pronounced dead. You knew it was wrong. You just knew, deep in your conscious. You listened, but you weren't all there. It was like you were watching yourself in that big, uncomfortable chair. The you in the chair listened until he couldn't take anymore.

He lunged from the chair with the knife your mother had given you, and he tackled Iverson, stabbing him in the eye and slashing him across the chest. 

All you could do was watch.

You were kicked out of the Garrison. Iverson said he should've pressed charges for the loss of his eye, as he couldn't fly anymore, but didn't. They did know, however, that you were an orphan. You had no home, no family, no money. You didn't have anywhere to go. You found the shack. It was a temporary fix to a permanent problem- a bandaid, if you will -but it would do. It was homey and nice. Close enough to the Garrison that you could see the trainees flying shakily across the desert, but far enough so that they wouldn't dare touch down to check for people. 

It was nice. Remote, but nice.  
One day, you were exploring the confines of your new home, and you discovered the cave. It was gorgeous. Cool, quiet. Everything you loved. You found the carvings in that cave, too. Carvings of ancient beings searching for a higher power; something to save them, and then- 

Voltron. The word resonated with you for some reason. You investigated into this for so long, a year, until one night, you saw something.  
A dark green ship, coming down from the sky, going straight for the Garrison. And suddenly, you were driving Takashi, a kid who looked like Matt, a big guy who looked like he was about to hurl, and a guy who was probably the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. 

You told him he was dead weight. 

Somehow, you found yourself in your cave with these people. Takashi, okay. But these people- wait, Pidge, and Hunk, and Lance, in their respective order, did not belong in your cave.   
No, they did not belong, until Lance put his hand on the wall and it began to glow. And a thought ran through your head that he looked so surprised and so pretty in the blue light, until all of you fell throuhg the floor.

You knew the word Voltron resonated with you, but you had never expected to be standing in front of a giant red lion. She- you thought? That's the signal you were getting -gave off an air. It felt restless. Ready. Like a star about to explode.  
When you formed Voltron, you felt all the signals at once. Black gave hers off buzzed; she was authoritative and a built leader. Green, in whirs, like machinery- he was eager, excited. Yellow, in small bursts of light behind your eyes. He was a nervous and happy lion, inherently.   
But Blue. Gosh. She gave hers off in waves. She was an ocean; she was stoic, but emotional. She had hope and comfort and love- so much love. It reminded you of your mother. It sent you reeling.

You asked the others if they'd been put off by Blue's emotional output. They said no. In time, you got used to it. You got used to it; not just Blue. Everything- the teamwork, the battles against the Galra, the Galra themselves. 

But then, you found the Blade of Marmora. Just like you had found Takashi, and the cave, and the shack, the moment you stepped into the base you felt welcomed. It was a sense that you should be there. It was a shock. Among the Galra, you felt welcome.

You fought- in the trails, you fought; for your right to know, for information. You got farther than any other Blade member ever has.   
You were Galra. Or, halfway, at least.  
Their leader pulled you aside later, while Takashi talked diplomacy with Allura and a couple other Blade members. She was distrusting of them, you could see, and you were reluctant to tell anyone other than Takashi about your heritage. The leader told you that he was proud to be fighting with you, as your mother had been an incredible asset to their organization. He told you that she had been sent down to earth in a last ditch effort to find the Blue Lion, but could not. She fell in love instead, and had you.   
Your mother. Galra. An alien, sitting on that beach with you, and you were none the wiser.

You walked away. 

You told the group that you were galra during that same day. Long before they put you in a healing pod, just as the Blade of Marmora's ship left the hangar.

You announced it, point blank, then walked out of the room without so much as a look back. It was odd, really. You'd thought that takashi, or Coran, or even more likely, no-one at all would've come into your room to comfort you while you were leaning against the wall, hurt, but it was Lance.  
He knocked gently against the door and opened it even when you protested, knowing that you didn't mean it. He sat on the bed next to you and said nothing, just lending that same, hopeful, comforting, loving ocean that his lion radiated. there was something. Unspoken. Silent.

It progressed until you knew every one of his quirks, knew that he had twenty-seven freckles on his right cheek and thirty-one on his left, how he emoted and felt about things; you loved it. You loved him.

You remember before the fight between Voltron and Zarkon, you held Lance in the hangar. Placed your forehead on his and thumbed his cheek lovingly. Kissed him almost desperately, like this would be your last. 

You lost Takashi again. 

There was a foggy haze where you ran to his lion and trespassed her, finding the pilot's seat empty. You dropped to the ground with wide eyes and pale skin, and you were silent until the others got there. You didn't cry until three hours later, with Lance, when you both were laying in bed. He was asleep; he'd long since thought he was done consoling you, as he saw no tears and you mumbled too many 'I'm fine's to count. He hadn't believed it, of course, but you were stubborn, and he knew that he wasn't going to get anything else. But it was then, in bed with Lance, that you had sat up and registered that Takashi, the man you spent most of your lie with, before he was stolen from you and given back for just long enough for you to almost recover, was ripped from your hands again.  
You silenced your sobs, as not to wake Lance. 

Allura had said that it was time to find a new pilot for the black lion. You remember how all heads turned to you to gauge your reaction. You stood from Lance's side on the couch and walked away. 

You took over Takashi's place in the black lion, therefore becoming the new leader. The others had all tried to earn Black's trust, but you were the only one who had it prior to Shiro's disappearance. You were the only viable replacement. 

You felt older.

There was a switch. Lance took your Red, and Allura took Blue. She briefly commented on the abnormal amount of signal she was getting from the beast, but it wasn't brought up again.

You found him. Takashi. He sent an SOS with a rogue Galra ship, and you were getting ready to fire before you saw him slumped in the pilot's seat.  
It was him. But it wasn't. It was all wrong. Black didn't accept him and instead of gently critiquing and accepting your leading style, he yelled and butted in every chance he got. 

You were always silent as Shiro led valiantly from the castle, returning Black's annoyed purrs with reassurances that everything was fine. You didn't know who exactly you were reassuring- her or yourself. 

You were silent while trudging back into the castle. You were silent when Lance pulled you aside, worriedly checking if anything if anything was wrong. Of course there was something wrong, but you didn't want him to worry. You didn't want to burden him with your dumb insecurities. He had enough on his own plate- he needed to be able to confide in you without any worries that he'd need to reciprocate. 

You looked up at him dully, weighing your options. If you got mad at him and pushed him away, then he wouldn't worry about you. If you told him everything, he would. So, naturally, you chose the former.   
You snapped that you were fine, no thanks to him. You didn't know why you added that, since your being alive was all thanks to him. You wondered to yourself if you were talking about how he didn't speak up for you when Shiro got mad, but you would always reassure yourself that it was fine. You didn't need help. You could do everything on your own.  
He looked so hurt, so surprised at your outburst. Then he pushed past you, leaving you standing, facing the wall while the others stared at you in shock. As you turned and read their expressions, you noticed that Shiro's was one of contempt. Maybe it was for the best. You were meant to be alone anyways- everyone you got close to inevitably died or left. 

You remember that night vividly. Laying in your old bed, not shared with Lance, and counting the seconds. One. Two. Three. You debated whether or not to go and apologize to Lance, fidgeting with the blanket- one. Two. Three threads on your fingertips. No, you had decided. He probably hated you; and for good reason, too. One. Two. Three. Four names you never should have learned in the first place.   
You got up and walked rapidly down the castle corridor. You counted your steps- One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. You arrived at the bridge and paced fervently (one, two, three), fiddling with a power-pad until the vast hologram splayed across the room. One. Two. Three planets that you didn't recognize. One. Two. Three stairs to sit on. You sat on one and looked at the stars with glassy eyes,. One. Two. Three stars about to supernova- like you.   
You put your head in your hands. One. Two. Three tears to begin the torrent. The sobs wracked your body. One. Two. Three. You heard the whir of a door behind you and silenced yourself, standing up and turning to fall into defensive position. One. Two. Three echoes of bare feet off the bridge's metal floor.   
You heard a tiny, laced with sleep, comforting yet unsettling voice ask you if you were okay. One. Two. Three words just to remind you that you were very much not okay. You didn't answer. Lance asked you if you were crying. Again; one. Two. Three words. He walked over to you and pulled you into a hug, ignoring the fighting stance you were in and seemingly forgetting your falling out.   
You were rigid for-

One.

Two.

T h r e e.

You reached your hands up behind his back and gripped the fabric there, resting your head on his shoulder. There was a steady flow of tears as you two sank to the ground, but you weren't exactly crying. You felt emotionless. Numb. You noticed that Lance grew more worried for you as the seconds ticked by. He threaded his fingers through your hair to calm you, and you began to feel once again.

"We'll find him," He said to you. "You'll be okay."  
Three words. Three words.

"We'll find him."

You closed your eyes and counted the seconds once again.

You fell asleep.

You. 

You stopped bothering to remember names, as everyone who entered your life had a way of disappearing. 

Your name is Keith Kogane, and you have four other names in your life that have yet to disappear.


	17. Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klance Kollege AU but Keith Angst

The first thing I saw when he entered our dorm were those eyes of his. Unlike anything I'd ever seen. Stormy, pensive and intelligent, they shone in the light that midday sent through our window. At first, I was caught off guard. He had his hair tied into a knot and he looked around the room, surveying his new home. His analytical gaze met my own and I could've sworn I saw the faintest blush adorn his fair skin, his porcelain cheeks turning the slightest shade of red I'd ever seen. But maybe I was just imagining things.

I stood and brushed myself off. I mean, I couldn't just stare at him. I needed to meet my new roommate, make a good first impression. I gave him a smile, masking my inner scrutiny at everything about him.  
He was smaller than me, younger than me. He looked timid and didn't carry himself with much confidence. I stuck out my hand for a handshake and he looked at me like I'd just pulled a goddamn stegosaurus out of my ass. Nevertheless, he took my hand and shook it. I noted the bandages wrapping his hands and the firmness in which he held mine. While he didn't look like he had much courage, I knew then that could change in a matter of seconds.

"Hi," I said, giving him a signature grin. He raised his eyebrows and I marveled at how his eyes could show so much emotion while his face didn't budge an inch. "The name's Lance McClain."   
A small smile played at his lips- supple and pink as cherry blossoms -and he took off his bag, walking over to his bed and putting it down. "Keith." He said, his voice quieter than I was expecting. That voice held so much conviction, though, and I wondered how someone so small could carry that much resolve.

He didn't tell me his last name, and I raised an eyebrow. "Keith..."   
He smiled smugly, which almost made me want to hurl. What a condescending asshole! Part of me, though, was wondering whether Keith's personality was little more than a farce, though, as I could see bitterness and hatred behind that mask of cockiness. His eyes didn't smile. "Just Keith." He said, turning back to his bed and opening the bag. I noticed that he only had one bag- the messenger that he carried in with him. It seemed to be packed chock-full of clothing that he put into drawers. But even then, it wasn't a lot. The nicest thing he had was a stickered-up old graphic design tablet that he put on the work-desk. He didn't have sheets or blankets or anything, whereas I had an awesome fluffy blue comforter. I almost felt bad for the guy. Then, he threw on a hoodie and put in his earbuds, leaning onto some cardboard boxy pillow that the school had probably given to him closed his eyes and totally ignored me for the rest of the night. Granted, Keith'd fallen asleep soon after, but I still counted it as annoying.

When I finished unpacking, I sighed and took out my phone, texting Pidge. She came over fairly quickly and we chilled for a while, speaking in hushed tones as not to wake Keith. She would look from him to me and back to him again, giving me a knowing grin. I punched her in the arm and looked at Keith, whose breathing was deep and methodical. I could faintly hear the music playing from his earbuds, though I couldn't discern what the song was. Sometime after Pidge left, I'd carefully taken Keith's earbuds from his ears and wrapped them around his phone, putting them on his nightstand. I froze when he shifted and stirred, but thankfully, he didn't wake. I huffed in relief and ran a hand through my hair. I heard a small ping coming from Keith's old iPhone and looked at the cracked screen, knowing that I shouldn't invade my new roommate's privacy like that, but I picked it up and opened the passcode free phone. I could practically hear that one normie meme saying 'I'm in' as I opened the messenger app and read the text.

Kashi: How're you settling in? Meet anyone yet? How's your roommate?

I blinked and closed the phone, putting it back down. What'd Keith heard about me? I groaned silently and fell back onto my bed, my mind wandering.  
When I first found out, I couldn't believe that I of all people had been chosen to go here. To VA. To one of the most prestigious art and design colleges in the world. I was pretty average at everything except photography, in which I excelled. They may have chosen me because of that, but however good I may have been, there was always someone better. Someone who may have been more worthy of a spot here than me. But, coincidentally no doubt, I was brought here and told that I would have a roommate in both the digital arts and the music programs. I wasn't told anything about him other than that, but I'd had Pidge look him up for me. He was notorious for violence in previous years, having been transferred from school to school because no one school could handle his aggression effectively. That was all Pidge would say about my roommate, though I could see that she was hiding something. I hummed and put a stick of bubblegum into my mouth, glancing back at Keith. The boy seemed to wake up a little then, sitting upright and running a hand through his hair. He groaned and went to grab for his phone, pulling up the text and reading it, cursing softly to himself. He texted back quickly and plugged his phone in, rubbing his face and standing. He stared at me for a second and then averted his eyes, pulling his hair into a ponytail and sitting at the desk without so much as a 'hello'. That peeved me for a second, after which realizing that Keith may be of the quiet type.

He yawned as he turned on the tablet, propping it up and slapping the top of it as it stalled. He sighed in relief as it finally turned on, though, and he grabbed a pen from the side of it and pulled up an unfinished drawing. I looked over Keith's shoulder, seeing that it was an insanely detailed portrait of a woman. I almost gasped, drawing his attention to me. He looked at me scornfully and rolled his eyes, going back to his art.

I decided that it wasn't worth the dirty look to watch Keith draw, so I put on my coat and went to leave. As I did, I swear I could feel Keith's hot gaze on the back of my neck. Probably not. I headed to the on-campus cafe, texting Hunk and Pidge to meet me there. I had this thing where I hated to be alone. I like people and need someone to talk to constantly. Maybe that's why I don't find Keith very nice. He didn't talk to me.   
We met up and we chatted a little bit. Pidge got a room with Allura while Hunk got one with some other dude in the culinary program. Pidge was happy about her pairing, since the two were dating and had been for quite some time. Hunk's girlfriend was at the school in the sculpting program, but being that she was, well, a she, he didn't get to live with her. I kept getting small looks from Pidge while I talked about Keith, and I knew Hunk's gears were turning as well. They knew I was bi, but they didn't have to assume that I fell in love with everyone who ended up coming in contact with me. To be honest, though, I kind of did. But this was different!

"So his name is Keith, huh?" Hunk said, clasping his hands. He looked nervous. I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I said. "What about it?" He pursed his lips and looked up at me.   
"The name is familiar from my old high school." He said, deep in thought. "I think he may have gone there."

"Really? That's coincidental. Did you know him at all?" Pidge asked, leaning in to take part in the conversation. Hunk shook his head.   
"I never met him, but I heard he got into a lot of fights." He said. "He skipped a couple grades and, much to the dismay of some of our teachers, got kicked out for aggression."

"Skipped grades? Really? He doesn't seem like the type." I said, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Pidge nodded. Hunk shrugged and went onto his phone.   
"I think I have a picture of him from senior year in the Online Yearbook. Lemme check."

Lo and behold, Hunk pulled up a picture of Keith from twelfth grade. He looked the same as he did now, with that black hair and those eyes. They only thing that was different was his expression. He smiled in the picture, and I could see that it was genuine. I frowned, thinking back to the dorm. When I asked about his last name, he gave me little more than a smirk. The boy in the picture seemed chaotic, reckless. The boy in our dorm was more sad and reserved. I decided that maybe Keith was just upset that he had to move away from friends and such, but deep down I knew that wasn't the case.   
After that, we moved on to other topics, like talking about our own schools. The three of us had been childhood friends, but we'd been split up when we Pidge and Hunk had to move to different states. I stayed in South Florida, where our family lived in Little Havana. It was almost right on the beach and somewhat secluded, though we had a neighbor or two the next street over. It was awesome- my little brothers, Marco and Luis, were both amazing at Jai Alai and my sister, Veronica, liked to play dominoes with the older folk in a little nook of Calle Ocho, which was only about a mile away. I liked to surf on the beach and hang out with my cousins, who, with us, lived in our cramped old house. I miss them so much.

Pidge stood up and stretched, pushing up the sleeves of her bomber. "I have class in an hour, so I'm gonna go hang out with Allura until then. See ya." She was at the door in a flash, her green skirt swishing and her green painted fingers waving a farewell. She grinned at us and left, leaving me and Hunk to finish our drinks. "I think I'm gonna do the same. If you wanna come, Shay and I are gonna watch a movie." He looked at me with a questioning smile. 

I shook my head and shooed him out. "I'm not gonna interrupt you two. I've gotta face time with my Mamá, anyway." I stood outside watching Hunk walk away for a moment before chugging the rest of my hot chocolate and throwing it in the trash. I began the walk back to the dorm, plugging in my earbuds and tapping my mom's contact.

"Lance, mijo! Qué tal?"

"Bueno, Mamá. Estoy instalado y tengo mi horarido de clase."

"Eso fantastico!"

"Si."

I heard my mom start to say something before she was cut off by a scream then laughter. I snickered as she yelled Spanish curses behind her, telling her children off. There was yelling back and she sighed in exasperation. I lingered outside our dorm, pacing around and twirling the wire in my fingers.

"Aye, lo siento, mijo. Es muy agitado por aquí. Debo irme."

"No, no. Está bien. Llámame lluego."

"Acuerdo, Lance. Hasta lluego."

"Hasta lluego."

I sighed as my mom hung up almost immediately. I pulled out my earbuds and opened the door to our dorm, seeing that Keith was still working at his tablet. He glanced at me for a moment, after which going back to it. I could see that the flat color was almost finished, and wondered if he intended to cell shade. I shrugged my jacket off and threw it on my bed, grabbing my laptop and pulling up YouTube. I watched some serial killer mini-docs on the Infographics Show until lunchtime, when Keith finally stood and stretched. He went to our kitchenette and opened the fridge, frowning when he remembered that neither of us had gotten any food yet. He groaned and shut the door, grabbing his phone and a set of keys- one silver one for the dormroom and another one with chipped red paint.

"Where are you going?" I asked, closing my laptop. He looked back to me with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm getting myself lunch at that one pizza place near here and grabbing groceries. Do you want me to bring you something back?"

"Sure. Bring me back a slice of pepperoni." To this Keith nodded and put his things in the pocket of his hoodie. He then left, leaving me alone with my videos. I scratched my head and watched the rest of the Ted Bundy one. After, I got bored and grabbed my camera, looking at the pictures I'd taken recently. I sighed and plugged it into my laptop, editing the photos and making them look more professional. I'd been dabbling in photography for over five years then, and I'd get a little better at it every day. The pictures I'd taken were of some girls talking on a bench, a street view from a tree on campus, and some rusty red motorcycle that was parked near the front of our building. That one was my favorite. I spent the most time on it, cropping it and putting various filters over it, and I gotta admit. It looked dope as hell.

My phone rang and I picked it up, looking at the caller. I smiled and answered my sister. "Hey, Ronnie." I said, putting my laptop aside and standing. I tended to pace while I was on the phone.

"Lance- I need your fucking help."

There was an irate tone to her words, which made me a bit concerned. "First of all, language, second of all, what is it? Are you okay?"

"No, Lance, I'm fucking dying."

"What?!"

"Yeah, Carlos is kicking my ass in Mario Kart. I own Rainbow Road. How is it that I'm in fuckin' fifth place?"

Jesus fucking Christ. I huffed and rubbed a hand over my face. "Mi cago en Dios, Veronica! You had me worried! Don't do that again. But what you need to do is literally kick the controller out of his hand until he eventually gets behind you. He's too nice to blue shell you, so you also need to blue shell him, okay?"

"Cool."

I hung up and sighed. My sister... could be a handful. I almost felt bad for my mother, needing to put up with those kids for another week before school started. But then again, I didn't. That's what you get when you don't let me watch Naruto, bitch. Karma.

As I put my phone back onto the charger, Keith walked in with a brown bag and groceries. I rushed over and grabbed some bags before the kid could topple over, then headed with him to the kitchenette, putting the groceries in the fridge and pantry without saying a word. When we finished, he handed me a white box out of the brown bag he was carrying, and I smelled pizza. I smiled and thanked him, going to sit on my bed to watch more YouTube. I felt his eyes on me again as I was walking out, but didn't pay any attention.

I was too busy psyching myself up- I had my first college class of the year the next day.

\---

I parked my motorcycle outside the school. I frowned. The building was huge, looming over me like a cloud on a sunny day. I absolutely hated it. I wondered why I even needed to go to college anyway, as I already knew how to animate. But Shiro had told me that if I ever wanted a decent job, then I needed at least my Associate's. I sighed, kicking the stand down and took off my helmet, putting it underneath the seat. I got a couple of looks for riding such an old, beat up bike to such a prestigious college, but I just returned them and they looked away. God, how I hated people. I rolled the sleeves up on my black hoodie, the bandages around my forearms stark white against the dark fabric. I wore them because I have a bunch of scars all down my arms from middle school and didn't want to be seen as that one emo douche-bag who gets off to mutilating his own body. I didn't feel like cutting at that time, of course, but I didn't like when people saw them. It made me seriously uncomfortable.

The campus was pretty, I'll admit. The trees were nice and the people seemed friendly enough, waving at me and giving me small, polite smiles. Too bad I'm too awkward to send any back. My messenger back felt heavy on my shoulder and it got heavier with each step I took, like it was begging me to go home and hang out with my brother. I sucked it up, though, as I looked at my map and headed for my dorm building. I knew that I was going to have a roommate, and instead of getting to pick one, it was completely anonymous. And get this- this was where I was going to be staying for the entire trimester. I just hope my roommate wasn't too annoying.

I stood in front of the door, gripping my key tightly. I heard humming on the other side. I wished that I'd gotten there first, but I could deal with meeting someone. They would just end up hating me anyways, so I guess I could get it over with immediately. I put the key in the lock and twisted slowly, holding the strap of my messenger bag. I walked in, looking around. The walls were a french grey while the drapes on the window were a sapphire blue. The right bed was covered with blue linens and a comforter. The left, which I decided was mine, was bare and was going to stay that way until I could scrounge up the extra money to get sheets and blankets.

Near the right dresser, I saw a boy looking at me, a Hollister t-shirt in his hands like he was going to fold it. I felt my face heat up, but succeeded in suppressing the emotion. He was absolutely gorgeous. Dark skin, darker hair. A motley of multicolored freckles adorned his face and arms, making his skin look like the sky at night. His eyes were blue. A deep, soft, spectrum of blue. I swallowed hard. This was going to be awful.   
After a moment of looking at each other, he stood up and brushed himself off. He gave me a smile and stuck out his hand for me to shake. I did so, taking note of his long fingers and painted nails. He was pretty.  
"Lance McClain." He said, releasing my hand and dropping again to the floor. He began to fold shirts again, all while glancing at me expectantly.

"Keith." I said, walking over to my bed. There, I took out the little I had and put it away in drawers and such.  
"Keith..." He trailed off, waiting for a response. I frowned again, holding the shirt I was putting away tightly. I looked back to him with a smug grin. "Just Keith." I said, hoping to piss him off a little. Maybe then he wouldn't bother me so much. I heard a small huff of annoyance and felt I did my job, finishing unpacking and flopping onto my mattress, leaning back onto a pillow and putting my earbuds in. I could always count on some electro-swing to chill me out. I ended up falling asleep for a few hours, waking up to the sound of my phone hitting the nightstand. Lance walked over and sat on his bed. I sat up and looked around, forgetting where I was for a moment. Remembering, I grabbed my phone and checked the text from Shiro, giving him a quick 'I'm fine' before getting up, stretching, and walking over to my desk.

I sat in front of my tablet and, after a couple stalls, pulled up a picture of my mom I'd been working on. I sighed and picked up the stylus pen, adding another layer and starting on her hair. I heard an almost inaudible gasp from behind me, looking up at Lance. He stared at my drawing until I gave him a scornful look, to which he walked away and sat on his bed. I turned back to my tablet. My mom. I looked at the picture, looking for anything wrong. Nothing seemed to be the matter, but I really did wish that I could see my mom in person. I missed her.   
Suppressing the thoughts, I used the eydropper tool on my palette and got the dark grey/black color I needed for the hair. I listened to music while I worked, getting a lot done before my stomach started to rumble. I realized I hadn't eaten that day other than a protein bar that Shiro'd forced down my throat early that morning. I was starving. I pulled my hoodie back on and grabbed my keys, starting to walk out.

"Where're you going?" Lance asked. I looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. I couldn't decide whether to be rude and not be bothered by my roommate for the rest of the trimester, or I could be not anti-social for once and be nice to the person I'd be sharking a room with.  
"I'm going to get lunch at the pizza place near here, then going to pick up groceries. You want me to bring you something back?"

"Yeah, sure," Lance said. "Can I have a slice of pepperoni?" I nodded and put my things in my pockets, leaving and putting my hands in my sweatshirt pouch. I looked up when I got outside, seeing that the sky was blue. I was happy about that. I hated thunderstorms. I took my keys out and headed for the parking lot, where I had by bike chained. I unchained it and mounted it, revving the motor and putting my helmet on. I smiled a bit. I loved this motorcycle. It was my father's pride and joy, and when he died it went to me. It was a beautiful, sturdy old thing with all these mechanisms that the new ones don't have. He preferred something simpler over needing to figure something.

I revved the motor once more and got out of the parking spot, riding down the road. I wish speed limits weren't a thing, but only because I was used to always going at my top speed. I lived in a desert before moving here, and there aren't any people in that desert to tell me off for going to fast. I loved this bike. I absolutely loved it. I slowed down upon seeing the grocery store, getting off and walking inside. I picked some stuff up and bought it, leaving and heading to the pizza place. I put in my and Lance's orders, sitting and playing doodle jump on my phone until it was ready. I wondered for a moment if Lance wanted anything to drink, deciding that I'd get his number when I actually needed it. I got the meal, thanked the server, and left, securing everything to my bike. When I got back to the dorm, I walked in and let Lance help me with the groceries without saying a word. We unpacked them and put them away then I gave him his lunch and he walked away. I couldn't help but stare at him as he did so, watching his strides and the confidence with which he carried himself. I looked away and pulled out my own pizza, eating it in silence.

I finished and stood, rolling up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and sitting at my desk. Lance eyed me for a moment while I pulled up my project again, then I felt his gaze move away. I didn't know why, but there was so much tension between us. And on the first day, too! It was stressful and I didn't like it. I sighed and worked on it for a while, effectively ignoring the world. That is, until there was a knock at the door around three p.m.  
I looked up as Lance answered the door, opening it to see someone I never thought I would actually see again. I swallowed thickly and pulled my hood over my head.

"Hello there. I live right down the hall and desperately need acquaintances. I'm Lotor." The voice was sickeningly familiar, making my heart pound out of my chest. I needed to get out of there, but he was right at the door, making my exit impossible.   
Lance chuckled at Lotor's comment. "Hey! I'm Lance. It's nice to meet you." Lance said. I could hear the smile in his tone and hoped that he wouldn't invite Lotor in.

"If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to come knocking on my door." Lotor said. I shuddered. Seriously, the nerve of this guy.   
"Same for me and Keith over here." I felt Lance glance in my direction, and I froze in my seat. Why did he mention my name? Why the fuck did he mention my name?  
"Keith, huh?" Lotor asked. He leaned in and I spun around, giving him a shaky wave. His eyes flickered in recognition immediately, but he didn't say anything. He just gave me a smile and waved back. He then leaned back to the doorway and shook Lance's hand.   
"I'd better get back to packing, then. Goodbye, Lance, Keith."

"Bye!" Lance closed the door and looked to me, confused. "Why didn't you say anything? He's our neighbor."

I gave him a dirty look. "None of your fucking business." I growled, turning back to my tablet. I knew as I said it that it was wrong, seeing as I hadn't known him more than a day, but I said it anyway. Maybe now, hopefully, he would stop talking to me. I figured that I'd get it out of the way early, since it always happens sooner or later. I heard a noise of indignation behind me as I put in my earbuds. He then left the room, leaving me alone. I stopped working and held my pen tighter. Why was Lotor here? Why in the name of God was he fucking here? I let out a soft groan and dropped my pen, putting my head in my hands. If Lotor was involved, this was going to be a hard next couple of years.

Despite the music in my headphones, I heard Lance speaking rapidly, angrily, in Spanish. I wondered if he was on the phone, but, of course, didn't go outside to check. I felt bad, of course, but I didn't feel bad enough to apologize. It was up to him whether or not he was going to be my friend, and I doubted that he was going to try. This thought made me feel somewhat secure, seeing as I didn't know how to deal with friends. I knew how to deal with bullies and I knew how to deal with death, but people who tried to be nice to me was a patch of uncharted waters. I tend to push people away before they can reject me, and that's how I liked to live. It was easier when you didn't have anyone to worry about, and I didn't. I was okay with that.

Lance came in a little while later, after I calmed myself down a bit. I'd put the picture I'd been working on a side for a bit while I started something else- something of a vent, I guess. It was kind of dark, but I liked it and it looked good, so I didn't stop when Lance walked inside the dorm room. I felt his stare again, and this time I spun around and gave him a look back. I couldn't hold the gaze for long, though, because instead of a curious look, he gave me an angry glare. I looked down and turned back around, working on my picture. He sighed and flopped onto his bed, switching off between watching me and watching TV on his computer.

This was going to be a hard next couple of years.

\---(POV SWITCH to 3rd Person)---

"So, Keith, how old are you?"

A week later, Lance'd seemingly forgotten about the incident. They were hanging out in the dorm after Lance got back from his classes and before Keith's began, as they had about an hour's interval of time in between. Lance was spinning a pencil in his fingers and Keith was playing on his phone. At Lance's question, he looked up.   
"What?"

"How old are you, man?"

"I turn eighteen next month, why?"

Lance almost choked on his spit as he sat up quickly, looking at Keith with wide eyes. "You're seventeen?!" He asked, leaning forward on his bed. Keith looked at him funny and raised an eyebrow.   
"Yeah, what of it?"

"Dude, how did you even get into college?"

"I skipped a couple grades is all. Why do you need to know?"

"Because I was gonna invite you to come drink with me and a couple friends. Do you have an ID?"

"Yeah, but I'm not going."

Lance groaned in annoyance. "Why not? It seems like you don't have friends."

Keith rolled his eyes and threw Lance a glare. "I have friends," He lied. "I just don't want to make more, especially if they associate themselves with you." To this Lance huffed, sitting up in bed and whipping out his phone, typing something.

"Fine," He said. Putting his phone in his pocket and standing. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar, walking back out and raised his eyebrows at Keith. "Be lonely. Just know that you're never going to meet people with that attitude."  
"Who says I want to meet people?" Keith snapped. "Maybe I just want to hang out by myself." Lance frowned. "Who wants to hang out by themselves? That sounds like a lonely existence."

He sat back down on the bed, finishing his snack and taking his phone out again. "If you come," Lance said, leaning back onto his hands for support. He looked at Keith with a sly grin. Keith swallowed hard. What was this feeling that erupted inside of his stomach when he saw that smile? He had no idea what it was, so he thought maybe he was kind of sick or something. "Your drinks are on me."

Keith suddenly started to consider going. Free drinks just to sit around while Lance goofed off with his friends? Awesome. He didn't even need to converse with the other people, only to tell Lance that he was getting another drink. He put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. Free drinks? Awesome. People? Not so awesome. But free drinks? Awesome. Keith groaned in exasperation. He checked his phone, cursing at the date. He looked to Lance apologetically. "Sorry, man. Rain check. My brother's coming in tonight to introduce me to his new boyfriend and we have to go out to dinner. I can't go with you guys." Lance's hopeful grin fell from his face, getting replaced with a disappointed smile.   
"That's fine," Lance said. "Another time, then." Keith smiled back.

Lance's smile sent chills down Keith's spine. He had no idea why or what he was feeling. It just kept getting worse the more he looked at the Cuban boy, so he turned back to his game. After about five minutes, he checked his watch and groaned, standing and grabbing his tablet, putting it in his messenger. He felt Lance's eyes trained on him as he moved and packed up for class. "See you later, Keith." Lance bid him farewell as he left the room, and Keith just grunted in response.   
As he walked down the dorm hallway, he felt his face heat up. What was this? Why was he feeling this way? He'd noticed over the last week that he'd get a pit deep in the bottom of his stomach whenever he was in the presence of Lance, then would be incredibly flustered for the next hour. Lance was giving him so much anxiety for reasons that Keith couldn't figure out, so he decided to avoid the older of the two whenever possible. Only until he sorted this out, anyway. Maybe it was better that he couldn't go out drinking with Lance's friends after all.

He sighed and left the building, breathing in the crisp Autumn air. He liked this time of year, when all he really needed was a jacket or a hoodie. He hated the summer time, because he hated the heat. At least then, though, he could stay inside with air conditioning. This year, though, he was dreading winter. The heating system in the dorm building broke, and he knew it was going to be freezing, since it was predicted to be even colder than last year. He hated snow. He hated the cold. He hated a lot of things, but Autumn was not one of them. He shivered against the chilly breeze and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He'd decided to keep the wraps on, just so that it wouldn't look weird if he took them off. Maybe people thought he was trying to be edgy or something. He let them think that way, just so that they wouldn't pity him. He didn't need it.

He began walking down the path, watching orange and red and yellow leaves fall from shedding trees. It was silent lest for the constant chattering of squirrels and birds. Lovely, he thought to himself. It was so lovely that something so disgusting most of the year could be, if only for one month, absolutely beautiful.

"Are you Keith?" He stopped walking and turned around, meeting the gaze of a girl who was significantly shorter than he was. Still, she carried herself with an overabundance of confidence and seemed like she was smart as a whip. She adjusted her green rimmed glasses and walked over to Keith, sticking her hand out. He looked down at her, perplexed for a moment, before grabbing her hand and shaking back. She gave him a small smile and stepped back, putting her hands in her sweatshirt pocket. "What of it?" Keith replied, putting his own hands back into his pockets.

"I'm Pidge," She said, her lips spreading into a cocky grin. "I'm a friend of Lance's."

Her voice was strong, and she used hard 'r's. It made her seem bigger, if that made any sense. Bigger than Keith, anyway, whose voice was small and cautious. "So?"

She narrowed her eyes, but kept the smile on her face. It seemed fake, almost, like it was fabricated to lure Keith into a false sense of security. She scared him- just a little bit. "So," She said, cracking her fingers loudly. It seemed like a harmless gesture, but having seen it before through people with malicious intent, he didn't like it one bit. Pidge unnerved him. He decided to tread lightly around her. "You're his roommate, correct? Any friend of his is a friend of mine, but you have to know that I did MMA for three years."

"Eight." 

"Huh?"

"Eight years. I did MMA for eight years."

"Huh."

She suddenly didn't seem very scary anymore, with those huge glasses and that thoughtful look on her face. She analyzed him, scanning him up and down, as if to see if he had any discrepancies. She stepped back once more, looking Keith in the eye. He saw a gleam of respect in there next to those big green irises. She was pretty, he wasn't going to deny that. But she didn't seem like the hetero type.  
"You have a class in a couple minutes, right?" She mused, looking at him with a sly grin. "You should run." He startled, checked his watch, then swore loudly. He ran down the path, acutely aware of Pidge's eyes glued to his back. Scratch respect- that girl was downright terrifying.

\---

He trudged down the path on the way back to the dorm. The sun was getting lower on the horizon, making the skies the same oranges and purples as the leaves that were, by then, almost all the way off the trees. He needed to change and get ready for dinner, but he really didn't feel up to it. He was tired and just really wanted to sleep. He sighed and walked into the dorm, greeting Lance briefly before going into the bathroom and changing. He walked out in a black v-neck t-shirt and some pants, putting his hair in a knot on the back of his head. "Where does your brother live?" Lance asked, laying belly down on the bed. Keith turned to look at Lance, who met his gaze curiously.

"He lives about two hours south of here."

"Where'd you live before coming here?"

"Texas."

"Your parents, too?"

"My dad was from Texas and my mom was Korean."

"That's cool."

There was silence as Keith kicked his shoes on and grabbed his jacket, leaving the house with keys in hand. Lance sighed and sat upright, looking at the now closed door. Wait. What did Keith say about his parents? Was? Lance put it up to a mere colloquial misinterpretation of words and took out his phone, texting Pidge to come over.

LankyBoi: Get over here bitch

Pigeon: No I'm watching horror movies with my gf

LankyBoi: Then come do it over here

HunkofJunk: I'll come Lance

Princessofwhat: I'll come too

Pigeon: BETRAYAL +100

LankyBoi: Just get over here cocksuckers

Pigeon: Hey

Pigeon: I'll have you know that I'm gay as fuck

LankyBoi: So am I stop being a piece of shit

Pigeon: No but I'm coming

Lance sighed again and threw his phone behind him on the bed, pulling his laptop to him. He cast a quick glance over to Keith's barren side of the room, pursing his lips. It was going to get cold this winter. He hoped that his roommate would have enough sense to buy himself a blanket before the freeze came. He heard a knock at the door, frowning and standing. Behind the door stood the three who said they'd come.   
"That was fast," Lance said, moving aside to let them come in. "How'd you get here so quickly?"

"Pidge was being lazy and we're all in the same building so we just drove here." Hunk said, sitting on Lance's bed and grabbing a pillow to lean on. Allura sat on the floor with her back against the bedframe, Pidge curling up next to her and leaning her head on Allura's thigh. Lance sat on the edge of Keith's bed, making sure not to go too far back onto it just in case Keith came back early. He shivered. Damn this faulty heating system.   
"It's too cold for this shit. Hunk, break out the booze." Pidge spat, sitting up and leaning on the bedframe, as her girlfriend had done. Hunk huffed in annoyance as he pulled two bottles of vodka from his backpack. Pidge smiled and made grabby hands for one of the bottles, taking one. She took a huge swig out of the clear liquid and exclaimed happily as the liquid burnt the back of her throat. She passed it to Allura, who took a reserved sip from the top. Lance drank a gulp about twice the size of Pidge's, while Hunk, who was normally the designated driver, drank nothing.

They drank and laughed for about an hour. Pidge drank the most and, while being about to hold her liquor well, was pretty drunk. Lance was a heavyweight as well, but he'd gotten kind of tipsy after they'd finished around half the second bottle. Allura was a bit tipsy as well, but she wasn't nearly as drunk as Pidge. Hunk was sober, like a pussy.   
"So, like, y'know," Pidge slurred. "Stamens on flowers are just kinda like plant dicks." She choked out a laugh, Lance putting a hand to his mouth to stifle his own. Allura giggled. "But like, why do they even need it? Aren't they asexual?" 

Pidge shook her head. "Bees are like the porn watchers of the bug community, so they pick up pollen and put it in the pistol or stamen like a sort of indirect version of a dude nutting into a chick."

"Oh." Lance snickered. Then he heard the key turn in the lock and he froze. He swore silently and fell to the floor, scrambling to get on his bed before Keith came in. Pidge just laughed at his face plant and Allura laughed at the way Pidge was laughing. God, her girlfriend was so goddamn drunk.

"I'm back." Keith said, coming in the door. He startled when he saw two girls borderline making out on the floor, Lance stumbling and trying to get onto his own bed, and a dude sitting in Lance's bed, shrugging at Keith. Keith's nostrils flared and he scowled. "Who are they?"

Lance looked up at Keith, his eyes wide. Keith couldn't help but notice the faint drunken flush that was spread across Lance's face. It stirred up the feeling he'd been trying to avoid, but it didn't seem as if the feeling was going away anytime soon. Lance smiled at him sheepishly. He struggled for a moment to sit on his bed, but succeeded and looked at Keith with guilt in his eyes. "These are the people I wanted you to meet. Keith, this is Pidge," The girl looked up and mumbled a what. "This is Hunk," the large man gave Keith a sunny smile and a friendly wave. "And this is Allura." Allura looked up and looked Keith in the eye for a moment. Alcohol brings out the truth in people, and though she gave Keith a smile akin to Hunks, he could see the subtle hatred brewing in those flat blue eyes of hers. 

"I believe, Pidge," He looked to the girl in green, who blinked her eyes, slowly, confused. "That we've already met." She squinted at him and turned around feeling around for her glasses. She found them and put them on, looking at him again. Then, her face lit up. "Keith! The.. uhh... eight years of MMA dude!" She slurred, reaching again for the booze. Hunk picked it up and put the cap on, putting the near-empty bottle back into his bag.

"Yeah, the eight years of MMA dude. Now, I'm tired, so would you kindly get out of our dorm?" Keith tried his best not to hiss or growl, but the outcome seemed like a forced mix between the two. Hunk gave him a sorry look and nodded. He grabbed Pidge's wrist and helped Allura up. She swayed for a few seconds then righted herself, staggering after Hunk who had Pidge over his shoulder. She was giggling the whole way out of the dorm room. As they walked out, Hunk turned and gave him another smile. "Hope to see you again, Keith. Bye." Keith was too stunned by the comment to say anything back for a moment.

"Allura didn't seem to like you much." Keith looked over to Lance, who laid in his bed. He seemed completely sober then, no alcohol blush covering his cheeks and no slurred words. It made Keith wonder whether Lance was actually drunk in the first place. Nevertheless, he responded to Lance's comment. "Yeah, I know."

"Do you know why?" Lance asked. Keith looked at him weirdly, thinking that Lance was accusing him of something.

"No. Do you?"

Lance shook his head. "I have no clue." He murmured, looking at the ceiling. Keith watched his room mate do this and his features softened. Lance was so... odd. In so many different ways. He huffed a sigh and sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair. Lance looked over to him and raised his eyebrows. "How'd meeting your brother's boyfriend go?"   
Keith gave Lance a weak smile. "It was fine. It was nice."

"You okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Lance furrowed his brows. He'd only known Keith for a week, but Keith seemed... off, somewhat. Lance put it up to the fact that Keith was probably tired, so he dismissed it.   
"What was he like?" Keith cocked his head.

"Who? My brother or Adam?"

"Either. Both. I don't care."

A small smile played at Keith's lips. "Shiro is... well, he's out of this world. Adam is... different. Odd, if I've ever seen it. He's taller and he's more easygoing. After only meeting him once, I think it's safe to say that he reminds me of you a little bit."

"How? Is he a ruggedly handsome ninja sharpshooter?"

"Uhh, first of all, I have no idea what the fuck that is, and two, I don't think so. It's just his personality that's pretty similar to yours, is all. It's not a bad thing, so don't give me that look. It's just... interesting."

Lance looked away from Keith and back to the ceiling, humming in acknowledgement. Keith gave Lance a funny look, drawing the other's attention toward him. Lance raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Were you even ever drunk?"

Lance gave Keith a mysterious smile and looked away. "Maybe. Maybe not." Keith broke out in a snicker, Lance following close behind. The two boys laughed in their room, the smell of stress-sweat and stale alcohol lingering in the air.

\---

Keith let out a breathless moan, his body flush against his roommate's. God, what did he ever do to deserve this? Sweat rolled down his chin, dropping onto his chest, where Lance kissed his neck and sucked hickeys into the soft flesh of his collarbone. Lance looked up to Keith, his eyes clouded over in fondness and lust. Keith's weren't much better. Lance thrust himself into the younger boy, the latter letting out a scratched cry before burying his face in Lance's neck. Lance brought one of his hands from Keith's hips to lift his chin, forcing the other one to meet his eyes. Lance smiled. Keith loved that about Lance. The faint blush that painted his cheeks, the devilish way he smiled while he fucked Keith silly. Those eyes- blue, such a deep, deep, cavernous blue, that seemed to swallow him whole and give him pleasure in waves. Those eyes which were once clear and sagacious and wise beyond their years were clouded over. But Keith loved those clouds- this was one storm that Keith knew he could weather. He let out another cry as Lance hit that bundle of nerves that served little purpose other than this.   
"Keith," Lance grunted. "Keith, I... I love you." Keith blinked, almost shaken from the ecstasy he'd been floating in. He smiled sweetly and put his hand to Lance's face. It was a tender moment in a time full of harsh affection and rough treatment. But, despite the aggressiveness that he'd never before seen in Lance, Keith was loving this.   
Lance thrust in once more, making Keith yell out with that raspy voice of his-

Keith woke up with a gasp. He panted, putting a hand to his face. He could feel the hot blush that had begun to spread across his cheeks, and was very glad that his bed wasn't covered in the sticky liquid that he'd thought to be there. He sighed. This was the fourth night in a row that he'd been getting those dreams and he really needed them to stop. It stressed him out and made him nervous to face Lance, as if he'd done something wrong. Keith didn't even know why he was having those dreams. It'd started off small- the night that Lance had invited his friends drinking in the dorm, he'd dreamed about holding Lance's hand and walking along the beach. It'd gotten progressively worse the next three nights, turning into some kind of porn-esque wet dream. He thought that maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him that Lance was a bad influence, or something.   
He looked to the clock, which read two-forty three am. Keith groaned softly, looking out the window. It was raining hard, the thick droplets of water hitting the windowpane and sliding down slowly, rhythmically. He swallowed hard. He hoped that it would only rain. He heard the soft rumbling of thunder in the distance and suddenly knew that he wasn't going to get any more sleep that night. He resigned to pulling himself into a ball and leaning on his uncomfortable pillow, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to pretend that the thunder didn't exist when, in fact, it did.   
A particularly loud round bellowed throughout the dorm, shaking the very foundation and making Keith yelp in fear. The thunder woke Lance, who sat up blearily and looked outside. "'s raining?" He slurred. He slid back into bed, closing his eyes. "Cool."

Keith looked to Lance with absolute terror, but his roommate didn't come to his rescue. It thundered again and Keith whimpered, putting his hands to his ears. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. Keith held them in, though, willing himself not to show weakness, even when he was scared out of his mind. It was loud throughout the night and Keith didn't sleep a wink until around eight am, a little before Lance needed to wake up. Keith felt himself relax as the sun peeked through the thick clouds, promising a sunny day. He fell asleep then, sitting up with his knees curled into his chest. Lance found him like that when he woke up.

"Keith," He whispered, shaking his roommate's shoulder. "Keith, are you alright?" Lance recalled, as he was falling back asleep, hearing soft cries from the other side of the room. A the time, though, he didn't wish to investigate. Keith hummed annoyedly and turned away from Lance, sliding down to sleep normally on the bed and curling up again. Lance furrowed his brows in worry and stood up, putting his hands on his hips. Keith was going to be the death of him pretty soon. He sighed, scratching his head and walking away. He got dressed and went to his first lecture, his majoring class. It wasn't hard to follow and he liked photography enough to understand little tips and tricks that professionals used. He walked back to the dorm around noon and walked inside, humming when he found that Keith was still asleep. He put his stuff down and walked over, trying again to wake his roommate up.   
Keith proved to be a deep sleeper right then, since the only way that Lance could wake him up was by blasting emo music from the speaker Lance'd brought for some reason. He played Crawling in my Skin four times at full volume before Keith even stirred. He sit up, groaning tiredly. He looked around blearily and made eye contact with Lance, seemingly confused. "I was asleep?" He croaked. Lance nodded warily, concerned. Keith looked down to his lap and sighed.

"What time is it?" Keith asked himself, looking at his clock. He huffed and stood, stretching. Four hours of sleep. Great. He took his clothes with him to the bathroom, where he showered and changed for the day. He wasn't particularly late, as his classes started at around one thirty, but he always like to be early, just in case he got sidetracked again, like that first day.   
He'd seen Pidge and Hunk and Allura again after their drinking incident, and he'd got to know them a little better. Lance was a mutual friend, apparently, even though Keith told them specifically that he didn't consider Lance a friend. They scoffed and kept talking to him about things that were unimportant, in his perspective anyway. He let them do so every time they got the chance to talk with each other, just in case they wouldn't like his being rude. While being rude was in his nature, he didn't like when it interfered with relationships that he possibly wanted to take further than just acquaintances.

He left the room and strolled down the path toward his lecture hall. He, truthfully, didn't like college one bit. He had to live with someone annoying twenty four-seven, he had to actually wake up and go to classes or it'd just be a waste of nine hundred dollars, and he had to deal with his roommate's friends, who he found just as irritating as the roommate himself. Keith sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip. He was tired and still coming down off of the fear from the night before, not to mention that uber-embarrassing dream that he had. He had no idea what it even meant, but he could figure out that it had something to do with how he felt, subconsciously, about Lance. Keith told himself that he hated Lance and found him a pest, but internally, it was the complete opposite. Keith didn't understand this, though- otherwise, Keith would be avoiding his roommate at all costs.

Deep in thought, he accidentally bumped into someone taller than him. Keith quickly turned to apologize, but the words were caught in his throat the minute he saw those eyes, he knew that he was wrong to even be there. "Keith," The voice purred, smooth and scarily menacing. "It's nice to see you again It's been awhile, hasn't it, hon?" Keith grimaced and looked away, turning around and trying to leave. As he was about to, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back at Lotor with a snarl, but it fell from his lips when he saw the foreigner. "That's no way to treat anyone, hm? Come back, baby. I'll teach you some manners." Lotor leaned closer to Keith's ear and licked his lips, sending shivers down the boy's spine. Keith scoffed and began to walk away. He heard a snickering behind him and he didn't dare to look. He looked behind him and saw nothing, frowning deeply and wrapping his arms around himself. He closed his eyes, reminding himself to breathe, then took a sharp right, u-turning back to his room. He needed a locked door right now, even if someone else was there.   
He didn't realize he was running until he arrived at his door, panting. He looked at his hands- shaking, trembling so violently that they reminded him of a dog in the rain; cold, afraid, barely hanging on. He fumbled with his keys and almost got it in the lock before Lance opened the door. He frowned and looked Keith up and down. "I thought you were going to class?"

Keith sighed shakily and pushed past Lance, walking inside and sitting on his bed. He gripped the sides of his arms tightly as if they were going somewhere and kept his head lowered, his bangs obscuring his expression. Lance stood in the doorway, mouth slightly ajar, wondering why Keith was here and not in class. "Are you good, man?"

"Fine." Keith's voice was watery and Lance was unconvinced at Keith's claim, but he decided not to pry, shutting the door and walking over to his own bed. He sat, watching Keith from his spot adjacent from the younger boy. After about five minutes of silence (lest for small sniffles from Keith) Lance grew restless. He clasped and unclasped his hands, wringing them nervously. Why he was nervous, he didn't know. But he was, and there's no escaping that. He slowly stood, as to not disturb the tense quiet that'd fallen over the room, and walked over. His socked feet padded softly against the dark brown hardwood and Lance saw the sun, streaming through the half-open window, hit Keith's hair perfectly, his inky curls shining in the light of mid-morning. Likewise, he could also see tears, small droplets of dew glimmering as they fell- fleeting and bright- hitting his skin or his clothes and, in an instant, disappearing. He sat down next to Keith lightly, keeping a slight distance between the two. After all, they'd just met and they didn't know much about each other.   
The thought that Keith may not even have needed someone crossed Lance's mind, but it was quickly dismissed when Keith looked up at Lance. His face seemed composed, but the dark bags under his eyes and an irritated ring underneath those told otherwise. His eyes, shining as brightly as the sun outside their window, were conflicted and afraid. Lance could barely take looking into those eyes.   
"What are you doing?" Keith asked, his voice tiny and sad.   
"I can't sit on your bed?" Lance joked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.   
"N-no, it's not that..." Keith looked down again, gripping his arms a little tighter. Lance noticed this and went to put a hand on his roommate's back, stopping immediately when he realized that the two weren't that close yet.  
"Then what is it?" Lance asked, putting his hand down, back to its position prior. Keith grimaced.  
"Nothing."  
"Bullshit."  
Keith scoffed and looked at Lance, annoyed. "And how would you know?"  
Lance raised an eyebrow. "I just do." Keith opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it with a click of his teeth. He looked away again. Lance finally worked up the courage to put a hand on Keith's shoulder, causing the other to look up at him cautiously. "What are you doing?" Keith asked again.   
"You're obviously hurting," Lance mumbled, looking away with a slight blush dusting his cheeks. "It's okay to ask for help, you know. Even if I don't know you that well, you can come to me." Lance turned back, seeing a shocked expression on Keith's face. They stayed like that for a couple moments, Keith too shocked to say anything and Lance too afraid of rejection that they couldn't move. Suddenly, Keith broke out into a grin. He started cackling, hunching over and laughing so hard he cried. Lance drew his hand back, nervous. "Are," Lance swallowed hard. "are you okay?" Keith laughed harder at this, making Lance severely uncomfortable.   
"I have no idea!" Keith exclaimed. "But I find this situation so funny!" He laughed for a moment more then his laughter tapered off into a low chuckle. Lance was glad he stopped, since he was starting to question his roommate's sanity. Keith looked up at him with a smile.   
"Thank you, Lance."

Lance smiled back, still uncomfortable but a little less so now. "No problem."

\----

"So what exactly are you telling me?" Keith asked into his phone, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever happened to that goddamn restraining order?" Keith paused, waiting for the person on the other line to finish speaking. "Wait, those things fucking expire? What the fuck?"

Lance listened intently to what Keith said, but wasn't aware of what the other person said. Here's how it goes-

"Do you know where Lotor is staying?"

"Yeah, my college."

"Your dorm building?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause from Shiro's end of the line.

"Two things- one, is there someone in there with you? You haven't even mentioned Lotor's name."

"Yeah. And they've met him, so I can't have them spreading stuff around." Shiro confirmed this with a hum.   
"Okay," He said. "Second thing. Do you think you're gonna be okay with Lotor there with you? Because I can get you out of there. There are plenty of good art schools that don't have your ex-boyfriend."   
Keith curled his lip up, disgusted, at Lotor, at the thought of him being in his school. Such a harsh, unkind fate. Even if he wasn't the kindest person to begin with, he avoided acknowledging it. He'd rather say 'A goddamn amalgamation of bad L'Oreal models' or 'bitch ass Rapunzel'. It was more eloquent that way.

"I'll be fine, Shiro. I just thought that you should know that he's here."

"Okay." Shiro went to hang up when he heard a loud 'Wait!' from Keith's end of the phone. He put it back up to his ear.   
"How's... the situation?"

Shiro frowned. He hated talking about it. He hated thinking about it. Plus, to top it all off, it wasn't good. Not at all, no sir. "I hate to say it, because even I'm giving up on hope. It's not good, Keith. I'm sorry." He could practically hear Keith's lips twisting up into a pained grimace before his younger brother hung up, leaving Shiro with his beeping phone held up to his ear.   
"Is everything okay?" Shiro heard a quiet voice from behind him, turning and smiling at his boyfriend. "Yeah, I think so." He said, taking Adam's hand and holding it tightly within his own. "I hope so."

\---

A month after Lance'd given Keith comfort, the two found themselves in a relationship that neither understood nor wanted to. They hung out and enjoyed each other's company, going out with mutual friends and watching movies on Lance's laptop. But on the other side of the spectrum, they had so many opposing views that they could barely hold a conversation without yelling at each other until their throats got sore. That's why Keith often opted not to talk with Lance. The comfortable silence was enough for him.   
Such was the case on October 5th, when Lance was chattering about a new show he'd found. Keith listened but didn't pay much mind to what Lance was saying, seeing as he didn't actually like the show himself and didn't want to get into an argument. He sat on the windowsill, one leg dangling out of their third floor room precariously and the other propped on the other side of the window frame. He twirled an almost-finished cigarette around in his two fingers, watching the smoke move as the cig moved. He tried not to smoke around Lance, seeing as the older boy didn't like the second-hand smoke. And the last thing he wanted was for Lance to get sick from it, hence sitting on the windowsill and breathing it outside.

"And one of the guys, Jeremy, I think his name was, got into the blue one, and Bex took the green wolf, and some dude named Steven... or was it Glen? I don't know, but he took red." Lance spoke animatedly and Keith observed his features. Lance turned around and caught Keith's steady gaze, a light flush spreading across his dark cheeks. He turned back around and kept speaking, albeit much less easily.  
Over the course of their friendship, their friends, which I refer to as 'their' because they all had warmed up to Keith, had noticed something between the two that wasn't normally found in a friendship. Keith smiled more around Lance. He spoke more. Lance smiled more too, even though he smiled constantly anyway. But the tell-tale sign was that ever-present blush on Lance's face whenever he was around and/or spoke to Keith. The rest of the friend group quickly realized that the two obviously liked each other. They'd talked to Lance about this, finding out that he'd already figured that out but didn't think Keith liked guys. They'd studied up a bit more, inferring that Keith was, in fact, gay (Or some form of LGBTQ member). They didn't tell Lance this, however, seeing as they wanted the two to have a natural relationship. Pidge was over in their dorm constantly, but it was as if she weren't even there at all. They spoke to each other, forgetting that others were in the room. Whenever Keith wasn't there, they would talk about Keith. And whenever Lance wasn't there, the conversation would always find a way back to the older student, though to Pidge it seemed that Keith didn't actually know that he'd developed a crush for Lance.

Presently, there was a knock at the door, shaking Keith out of his revere and cutting Lance off from his flustered ramblings. Lance stood and opened the door, smiling when he saw Pidge and Hunk. He let them in and Keith snuffed his cigarette, waving the last of the smoke and closing the window. Lance sat on his bed, Keith on his, and Hunk and Pidge sat on a desk chair and a bean bag.   
"So," Pidge said, commanding the attention of Hunk and both other boys. She smiled slyly, and the dorm's residents knew that something was up. Whenever Pidge had that look on her face, she was doing something. And it usually wasn't good. Hunk also had a knowing grin on his face, which startled Lance, as the two told each other anything. What did Hunk know that he didn't? "This Saturday, a senior in my chem course is throwing a party." Before she could get any further, Lance and Keith commented in unison.   
"Sounds fun." and "Absolutely not."   
Lance looked at Keith and cocked his head. "What? You don't want to go?" Keith frowned and averted his gaze. "I... I have something to do Saturday." He mumbled. Lance scoffed and Pidge looked from Keith to him.  
"That's bullshit and you know it. C'mon- It'll be fuuuun!" Lance's eyes sparkled excitedly, and Keith had a hard time turning it down. His brows furrowed in conflict and he looked away, grasping his hands nervously. He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his hair, grabbing his phone and standing. He looked at Lance with a look that, to this day, he couldn't decipher.

"Gimme a second, then." He walked out, tapping a number into his phone. The door closed behind him and the three left behind could hear a voice behind the wall, presumably Keith's. "Ah, hai. Hai, moshi moshi? Ohayogozaimasu." Lance raised his eyebrows. Japanese? Interesting. Keith spoke for a while longer, and though Lance couldn't understand a lick of it, he could feel the sudden tenseness that it brought.   
"Hontoni?" Keith asked and listened for a moment. "Arigato! Domo arigato, okasan. Hai, hai. Arigato. Atode denwa suru yo. Bye."   
Keith walked back into the room, pocketing his phone and sitting on his bed again. He looked from person to person in the room, seeing their surprised faces.  
"Na- What?" He corrected himself quickly. 

"You speak Japanese?" Hunk asked, a smile gracing his lips. Keith went red and looked down, fidgeting.  
"Yeah," He said, looking from Hunk to his lap and back again. "My dad was Texan and my Mom's Korean, but she lived in Japan for most of her life." Hunk hummed in acknowledgement.

"So," Lance said, breaking the silence again. "Are you able to come Saturday?"   
Keith nodded and smiled a small bit. "Yeah," He said. "My mom told me it was okay."   
Lance snorted at this. "You're in college, yet you still ask your mom if you're allowed to do shit? That's adorable!"   
Keith grimaced and turned away. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, dick."  
"That's exactly what I'm doing!" Lance chuckled out. Pidge laughed a bit too, but was stopped by Hunk when Keith reacted so negatively. Lance didn't seem effected by this attitude, though, so he laughed and poked fun at Keith for a while.

The reason that Keith had to ask, unbeknownst to Lance, was that Keith's mother was in the hospital with leukemia. He was supposed to visit her that Saturday, as he hadn't seen her in about a year since he'd gone to college. He felt bad for ditching her, even if it was only for one day. He loved his mother, and missed her terribly.   
After Lance stopped making fun of Keith, Pidge and Hunk left. Keith stood and paced. He ran a hand through his hair, a stress tic that Lance had noticed over time.   
"I need to make another call," He said. He looked at Lance, who was playing Mario Kart on his DS, with an annoyed expression. He sighed and grabbed his phone from the charger, calling Shiro.

"Hey, little bro. What's happening?"

"I can't visit mom on Saturday. Do you think you can just stop by and see her? I know she's a little intense sometimes, but she really does like you..."   
There was hesitance from Shiro, and Keith feared for a moment that Shiro would decline. That would be fine, of course, as he could just visit her the following day, but he didn't want to be a burden on Shiro at all. He didn't want to annoy his brother or hinder him in any way. That's why he was nervous. He suddenly heard a sharp sigh from the other end.   
"Sure. Even if it's just for half an hour or so, I'll check on her and give you a status update." Keith sighed too, in relief. "Thanks, Shiro. You're the best."

"You bet your ass I am."

"Language, toddler."

"Little bitch."

"Slut."

"Gay."

"True enough."

Shiro laughed and Keith smiled. He loved his brother. They sobered and spoke for a little while longer, then Keith hung up and fell back onto his bed. Lance looked up from his game and glanced at Keith, who was now texting with someone on his phone.   
"Who was that?" He asked. Keith looked up. 

"Who? The person I was on the phone with?" Lance nodded. "My brother. He lives not too far from here. I told you about him, right?" Lance thought for a moment. 

"Yeah, I think so. That time when you went out with him and his boyfriend?"

"Yep. That's the one."

Lance nodded again and looked to the ceiling. The popcorn texture of the white walls gave the room something of a 1970's vibe, making Lance feel a little more at home. It was crumbly and he would find that it fell on him while he slept or worked, but it didn't bother him much and gave him something to look at other than at Keith or out the window. He looked up when Keith stood again, walking to the window and sitting on the sill, lighting a cigarette. Lance scrunched his nose up.  
"Smoking's bad for you, y'know. You're only seventeen. How do you even get those, anyway?"

Keith raised an eyebrow at him, taking a drag of his cig and blowing the smoke out the window. "Have you ever heard," Keith deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "of a fake ID?"

Lance frowned and shrugged. "Whatever, man. You should stop, or at least vape. It makes you look like a douche, but it could be a little better than the cocktail of chemicals that smoking puts in your body."

Keith rolled his eyes and took another drag, holding it in this time. He released the smoke halfway out the window, looking at the pane in front of him. It made a dark halo around his face and Lance, in that moment, thought that his roommate looked like a dragon. "I'm turning eighteen soon, anyway. I won't need a fake ID after that."

"Yeah, but you're still pretty young to be smoking." 

"Whatever."

Lance huffed and closed his DS, putting it on its charger. He stood and pulled on a hoodie, acutely aware of Keith's gaze on him as he left. Lance almost couldn't take seeing Keith slowly kill himself like that (As that's how Lance saw it). And he would admit it- he did like Keith (romantically) and cared for him (romantically). He hated to see Keith hurting, and Lance had a feeling that, ever since their encounter that one time, Keith had been hurting. He looked down at his feet and pushed the door open, walking outside and breathing the crisp, sweet October air. He liked the cold. It was nice. And it made him nostalgic, yet the only thing of the past he could think of was when Keith burst in like that-

Lance heard the fumbling of keys outside the door and wondered if the people who lived next to them had gotten their rooms mixed up. It wouldn't be unusual, as it was pretty early in the year, so Lance would help them out a bit. He put his laptop aside and stood, walking to the door. He opened it, only to see Keith standing in the doorway, fiddling with his keys. Keith looked up at him. Lance was about to say something, but drew back when he saw the look in his roommate's face.   
Dread. Fear, and inherent dread. Lance furrowed his brows. Keith's eyes shone with unshed tears and his mouth was set into a deep frown. Keith averted his gaze from Lance's and pushed past him, sitting on his bed with a watery sigh. He put his head in his hands. Lance closed the door and walked to the middle of the room, studying Keith intently. "I thought you were going to class?" Lance asked, a worried lilt to his tone. "Are you good, man?"

Keith took his hands from his face and let his elbows rest on his knees. "Fine." He forced out through gritted teeth. Lance could see clearly that he was anything but. Lance frowned and sat next to Keith, reaching out to put his hand on Keith's shoulder but hesitating. He didn't know Keith that well at the time and it may have seemed kind of weird. Lance, though, upon looking at Keith for a short while, could see the sun that streamed through a half-open window hitting his inky curls and making them seem like they were a dark auburn. He could also see tears, falling from Keith's obscured face and glimmering in the mid-morning sunlight as they fell onto his thighs. Keith looked up at Lance, and Lance's thoughts of leaving suddenly vanished upon seeing the darkened rings under Keith's beautiful slate eyes. Those eyes shined just as brightly, if not brighter, then the sun outside.   
"What are you doing?" Keith's voice, while being smaller than normal, held its accusatory tone. Lance, unmiffed, responded. "What," He said, fighting the urge to give Keith a signature lop-sided grin. "I can't sit on your bed?"   
Keith's eyes widened apologetically and he looked away again, back to his lap. "N-No, it's not that..." He muttered.

Then what is it? Lance's brain screamed at him to ask these questions, even though they made Keith visibly uncomfortable.   
"Then what is it?"

"Nothing."

Bullshit. "Bullshit."

Keith scoffed and looked at Lance, annoyed. Lance was just glad that he could see a different expression other than just sadness upon Keith's face. "And how would you know?" He spat.

I just do. Of course I would know when the love of my life is sad. "I just do."

Keith opened his mouth, parting those faint pink lips as if he were going to say something more, then shut them with the click of his teeth. "What," He asked, hesitating. Then his gaze softened. "What are you doing?" Keith asked again, sending pulsations through Lance's entire body. God, Keith was pretty in this lighting.

You're obviously hurting. I want to make you feel better. What can I do? God, please tell me what I can do! "You're obviously hurting." Lance could feel traces of a blush hinting at his cheeks. He looked away, embarrassed. "It's okay to ask for help, you know. Even if I don't know you that well, you can come to me."   
For a couple moments, Lance didn't hear anything from his roommate. He thought he'd done something wrong until he heard Keith's laugh- chiming and melodic. He turned to see Keith hunched over his legs, crying. But this time, the tears were from laughter. Lance smiled too. Keith slowly stopped, looking to Lance with a gratitude so deep that Lance could practically swim in it. "Thank you, Lance."

"No problem."

Lance shook his head and sat down on a bench, looking back at his dorm building. It wasn't hard to spot Keith, in a high up dorm room that had smoke coming from its window. In fact, it was easy. Lance looked down at his hands. Why did he have to feel this way? It was utter torture to be stuck in a room with the person you'd loved more than anyone else in a while. Why was he being subjected to this? He looked back up at his window, too far away to see anything other than a miscellaneous blob sitting on the windowsill.

Meanwhile, Keith was gazing at Lance, a blue-coated blip on a bench, and slowly but surely, falling in love.

\---

As Keith buttoned up his shirt, an uneasy feeling settled deep within his stomach. He brushed it off as nerves, seeing as it was his first college party, but in the back of his mind he knew that something was wrong. He ignored the feeling and looked at himself in the mirror.   
He was dressed nicer than he usually would be- donning a button up shirt with Crocs all over it and a denim jacket. He wore jeans so distressed it looked like he'd been in Chernobyl when it exploded. He had minimal makeup, per Pidge's request, and he wore his long-ish hair in a half ponytail. He looked... good.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Keith swore, frightened by the sudden noise.   
"What?" Keith barked, sliding his phone in his back pocket and opening the door. Lance stood there with a smile on his face. Keith couldn't describe what he felt in that moment, when he looked into Lance's eyes for the first time in what seemed like a long while. He'd almost forgotten about that cavernous blue, all-consuming and bright as hell. Keith could get lost in those eyes.  
Lance grinned at him (that signature lop-sided grin of his) and clapped him on the shoulder, but Keith was too enamored by Lance's outfit to even be fazed by the blow. Lance wore a blue halter top that revealed fishnet-covered, barely-there abs and a happy trail going straight down to his v-line, barely hidden by a pair of tight black stretch pants. Keith swallowed hard; lord have mercy on his soul because this was going to be a long ass mcfucking night.  
"You ready? We gotta get going." Keith nodded and walked past Lance, aware of his roommate following close behind. Lance'd put on an army green bomber before they left, and Keith thought that the jacket was a good touch to an already nice outfit. God, he was fucking gay. They met Pidge, Hunk and Allura at the base of the steps; Shay couldn't make it. She had too much homework, apparently. They all greeted each other and started on the trail to the party house. 

Keith could feel Allura's burning gaze on his neck as he walked with Lance in front of the couple. He knew that Allura hadn't ever really liked him, but he didn't know why she had to make it so obvious. His face burned and he looked down to his black army boots. Lance noticed this and stepped a little closer to Keith, hoping to give him some silent comfort. This succeeded and Keith looked up at Lance, giving him a small smile. Lance smiled back and the two walked on silently. Behind them, Allura, Pidge and Hunk chatted quietly, so the boys wouldn't hear them.

"I don't like that Keith." Allura hissed, hatred dripping from every one of her accented words. "I don't trust him. Even if Lance likes him, that doesn't mean that he's a good person."

Pidge frowned and held onto her girlfriend's hand a little tighter. "Give the guy a chance, 'Lura. I promise he's not as bad as you think he is."  
Hunk nodded. "He's actually a pretty stand up guy." He said, all smiles. Allura furrowed her brows and silenced, thinking.

"Let's play twenty questions." Lance said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat. In his opinion, it wasn't actually that cold. He just really needed something to do with his hands. He was nervous, yet not, around Keith. The silences were always comfortable, but the air was always filled with sexual tension so thick that you could practically cut it. The smiles were friendly, but there was always some underlying meaning to them, like they were trying to tell the recipient something important.   
Keith looked down. He'd been looking at the steadily darkening sky, counting stars and forming constellations. He didn't tell Lance any of this, of course, but when he looked down he thought he could see traces of a blush in Lance's dark cheeks.

So pretty. So, so pretty. His freckles look like stars- I wonder how many there are. One, two, three... too many to count right now. But those eyes, and that smile. I can hardly breathe...

Keith's mind screamed as he looked up at Lance. "Twenty questions? What's that?" Lance looked at him like he was crazy. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Lance just huffed and looked away.

"I can't believe you've never played twenty questions." He said, looking back at Keith with an unbelieving smile on his face. "You ask a question, then the person asked responds. The questioner has to answer the question too. It's supposed to stop once you get to question twenty, but normally you'd just keep going if you were having fun."

"Oh. Okay. You start."

Lance thought for a moment, then decided that he should take the mainstream route for the moment. "What's your favorite color?"

"Red. You?"

"Blue. Okay," Lance said. "That's how it works. Now it's your turn to ask a question." Keith nodded and looked back down.

"Uhh... What's your favorite movie?"

"Pshh- that's an easy one. Coco, by far."

"Oh. Mine's Casablanca." Keith said, scratching his cheek sheepishly. Truthfully, he hadn't seen many movies other than that, but he still liked the movie. Lance raised his eyebrows at Keith's answer.   
"So you're an oldie, huh?"

"Oldie?"

"A young person who likes old concepts or books or movies. An oldie."

"Oh," Keith said. "I don't know. I haven't seen much else, so I wouldn't really say that I like old things because I haven't seen old things, y'know? I think it's your turn to ask a question, though."

Lance nodded and looked forward, seemingly searching for something that was inconceivable. Keith thought that Lance looked... he looked... well, pretty.

So pretty. So, so pretty. His freckles look like stars- I wonder how many there are. One, two, three... too many to count right now. But those eyes, and that smile. I can hardly breathe...

Keith's heart skipped a beat when he had the thought again and he looked down, allowing his bangs obscuring his reddening face. He knew that Lance wasn't looking at him, yet he still felt smaller under Lance's canopy of a personality. Big, beautiful, strong. He was all of these things and more.   
"What's your darkest secret?"

Keith froze (he kept walking- he just froze figuratively) and was suddenly very small, and not the good kind of small he felt when with Lance, but the bad small that you feel when someone stronger than you is standing over you, waiting to deliver a punch. Keith swallowed hard and looked up at Lance nervously.   
"My d-darkest secret?" He stumbled over his words, not daring to say anything else. He met Lance's gaze and saw the uncertainty in his eyes, the tentativeness to ask such a question so quickly.

And suddenly, he was saved by the bell. That bell being Pidge yelling out that they were there. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, noticing that Lance'd done the same. So Lance didn't want to tell his either? No, that would make him hypocritical and that didn't seem like Lance. No, Keith figured that if Lance was hesitant, it was because he didn't want to hear his roommate's secret. That was the only answer that made sense, somewhat.

Pidge burst through them and dragged Allura up onto the porch, the others following close behind. She knocked on the door and walked in when she discovered the door was open, subjecting all of them to the loud rumbling of a deep base and some obscure Soundcloud rapper blasting through some speakers. It was just about all Keith could do not to run away and never return. They walked in and immediately Keith felt uncomfortable. He was glued to Lance's side as they walked in and the group dispersed. Allura and Pidge left, presumably going to get drunk and make out in some storage closet. Hunk left behind them, making sure that they drank responsibly and used protection. That left Keith with Lance as they floated around the party. Lance grabbed drinks for them both and downed his, Keith taking small sips of his. He didn't want to get drunk- he didn't know what could happen. Besides, whatever was in that cup tasted like complete piss.

They sat on a couch and Lance spoke with a couple older kids while Keith just nursed his drink and stared at his phone. He was nervous. That uncertain feeling from earlier hadn't gone away; it was like digesting a rock. He put his phone away with a sigh and tried to focus in on what Lance said, though most of it was in Spanish. The music pounded in his ears, rattling his body. He hated this. He'd never liked the whole 'party scene', though by looking over at Lance's smile Keith could see that his roommate did. He took another sip of his drink (which was one of Keith's personal favorites, rum and coke. Pretty good shit.).

"Hey, Keith," Keith turned at the sound of Lance's voice. Lance's face seemed to be devoid of any former nerve from their conversation just twenty minutes before, and in a way, Keith was relieved. Keith hummed in acknowledgement. "Wanna play truth or dare with the group and a few other kids? They're starting a circle."

Keith frowned. He knew what truth or dare was, he'd just never played before. Although, he did see that movie where the guy had to slice his own eye open as a dare- was the game like that? Probably not. He shrugged and nodded- though Lance's voice was loud enough to carry over to Keith's ears, Keith's own voice struggled to be loud enough for a normal conversation. Keith decided to put his phone on do not disturb, since he wanted to play this without any sort of distraction. I mean, that game required focus, right? He didn't know, nor did he care.   
Lance smiled at Keith's affirmation and grabbed his wrist. The moment Lance's hand came in contact with his skin, Keith went red. In the dim light of the house, though, he was sure that Lance couldn't have seen it. He hoped so. 

Lance dragged Keith down a hall and into a room where Pidge, Hunk, and Allura sat and chatted with a couple other people, two of which being the people Lance was speaking with earlier and the last being Lotor. Keith swallowed against the sudden ball of cotton in his throat and sat down next to Lance, unconsciously moving a little closer than he probably should have. Lance noticed this and followed Keith's gaze to where he stared at Lotor. He raised an eyebrow and looked back at Keith, who looked like he was masking terror with a stoic expression. Lance could see Keith's eyebrow twitch, though; how his jaw worked against grinding teeth and the tenseness in his shoulders. Lance frowned.

"So," Pidge said, getting everyone's attention. "I'll start." She looked around and caught Hunk's eye. Lance grinned, completely forgetting any and all thoughts about Keith, and looked at Hunk with mischief.   
"Hunk, truth or dare?" She asked, leaning a bit forward. Hunk thought for a moment.

"Truth."

Pidge groaned. "You always pick truth!"

"That's because I'm scared of your dares!"

"That's why I give them!"

"Just ask the question."

Pidge sighed and Keith looked between them, confused. He had no idea what was happening, and he didn't have a clue as to what he was supposed to be doing. "Uhhh... do you like anyone-" She cut herself off, then she groaned. She couldn't take that back. Oof.

Hunk sneered, knowing full well that she couldn't take that back (oof). "Shay. My turn!" His sneer turned to a grin and he looked around the room. His eyes landed on Lotor. "Lotor!" He exclaimed, pointing a large finger at the tall student. Lotor gave a small smile. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Lotor looked up, as if in thought, for a moment. Keith slowly became more angry as the seconds ticked by. He would be mad if Lotor said it, but he would be even more so if Lotor lied or said something else. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation. Keith watched with a glare as Lotor met his eyes. Without a waver in his gaze, he said, "Once, I stole some money from my mom's purse to buy weed." Keith seethed, but said nothing.  
Hunk laughed, soon after being joined by a couple others. Lotor grinned and gave Keith this look.

"Uhm..." Lotor said. He looked to Keith. "Lance!" He said. This caught Keith off guard, as he'd been getting ready for Lotor to ask him. "Truth or dare?" He asked, his white hair falling into his face. If Keith didn't think the guy was so vile, he would maybe have thought that Lotor was pretty, in a way. Not comparable to Lance, of course, but pretty enough.

"Easy- dare."

Lotor smirked. "I dare you to take Keith's phone and send a text to someone of your choosing."

"Hey! That's not fair! Why am I being roped into this?" Keith cried out in indignation, though it was really only because Lotor was the one asking the question. If it had been anyone else, he would have let Lance do the dare no questions asked. Though, from the way Lance was looking at him- all doe eyed and pleading -he would be cooperating anyway.   
"Please, Keith? If I don't do it then I have to do shots, and I don't like shots! Pleeeease?"

Keith groaned and handed Lance his phone, which was still locked. Lance smiled, thanking him and grabbing the shattered black phone. He took it and had Keith input his password. Keith crossed his arms and sent a glare to Lotor, who just smiled back. God, how he hated that bitch. He felt a tap on his shoulder and Lance showed him his screen, where he could just make out something texted to him through the cracks. Lance met Keith's eyes with an apologetic yet appalled look of horror, and Keith was suddenly very confused. He took the phone and read the message.

SpaceDaddy: Keith you have to get here quick it's your mom she's having a seizure

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

SpaceDaddy: Keith you need to get over here now they don't think she's gonna make it

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy) 

SpaceDaddy: Keith where the fuck are you that you can't answer your damn phone

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

SpaceDaddy: I'm so sorry, Keith.

SpaceDaddy: I hate to have to tell you this over text, but as you aren't answering your phone, then I'm going to tell you whether you want to hear it or not.

(Missed call from SpaceDaddy)

SpaceDaddy: Keith, I really don't know how to say this, but your mom

SpaceDaddy: I'm so sorry. She's gone. I'm so, so sorry.

\---

Keith stared for a moment, his eyes wide. Lance saw indistinguishable emotions swirling through those irises of his and for a second, though that Keith was going to cry. Instead, Keith's face scrunched up into a deep grimace and he snatched his phone and left, slamming the door behind him. Lance sat there, looking at the empty void where Keith had sat, trying not to cry himself. The room was deadly quiet, lest for the muffled thumps of trendy music coming from outside the room.   
"What... What just happened?"   
Lance looked up at Pidge, gaping.  
"I d-don't know... I think the message said something... something about his mom?"

The room quieted once more, and Lance stood. "I'm gonna go after him, I think. I wanna see," Lance swallowed hard, his mouth bone dry. He needed a drink. "I wanna see if he's alright." Lotor stood. "I'll come too. I used to know him from school, so I may be able to help, if even a little bit." Lance nodded and grabbed his jacket, then they both walked out the door. Pidge saw concern written all over Hunk's face.   
"They'll all be fine." Pidge said, putting a hand on Hunk's shoulder. Hunk looked at her and shrugged her hand off.   
"It's Keith I'm worried about. I remember Lotor from school, and I think I remember them having a relationship of some sort. But like, not a good one. Like super unhealthy. Keith got really reserved that year and didn't get into many fights, and while that was good the reasons were bad. You know?"  
Pidge furrowed her brows and looked at the door, which was slightly ajar from Lance and Lotor's departure. "Huh," She said, adjusting her glasses. "That's interesting."

\---

Keith ran away from the house at top speed, ignoring the cold air biting at his skin. He didn't want to be in that house anymore. It was suffocating and loud- he needed quiet. He needed silence. He turned on his heel and ran over to the campus' fence, climbing it and running into the forest next to the school. He slowed a bit, jogging around the trees until he found a suitable spot to sit down. He shivered. It was cold- so cold that he couldn't ignore the air anymore. He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up against the tree, putting his head in his knees. God, it was cold. He decided to focus on that instead of what he'd been faced with. 

I'm so sorry, Keith. She's gone. I'm so, so sorry.

Keith released a shaky breath and he picked his phone up from where it lay next to him. He took it off do not disturb and dialed Shiro's number with half-numb fingers. It rung only for a moment, but Shiro picked up almost immediately. 

"Sh-Shiro?" Keith whispered into the phone, his voice weak and small.

"Keith, you saw my messages?" Shiro's own voice was grim, speaking to Keith tentatively like he would a child that lost a pet. Keith didn't want to have seen those messages. He didn't want to believe what had happened.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." Shiro sighed as he said this, sounding tired and upset. "I'm so, so sorry."  
Keith's breath hitched in his throat and he grimaced, gripping the phone a little tighter. He quickly took the phone from his ear and hung up, not hearing nor caring what Shiro had to say next. He threw it away from him, where it thumped to the ground and skidded against the dewy earth next to the tree adjacent to him. He gave a hoarse cry of frustration and stood, kicking the tree and ignoring the shooting pain that went up his ankle. Hot tears gathered in his eyes and he groaned, wiping them away. He kicked the tree again and punched it as hard as he could, trying to distract himself from the situation.

"Keith? Is that you?" He heard the far away voice of Lance, who then was in the midst of climbing the fence. He grit his teeth and sat back down, putting his face in his arms. God, what did he do to deserve this? What in the world did he do? His breathing became more labored by the minute and his brain felt muddled. His face was hot despite the cold of the air and his gathering of tears turned into sobs of pain and frustration and grief.   
"Keith?"

Keith either couldn't hear or didn't care about the people who were slowly coming towards him. Lance was in front, staring at Keith in pity; sympathetic that he would be able to break the boy, who at that time seemed like porcelain. The resilient roommate he once had, missing pieces of himself that were integral to his internal structure. Fragile, delicate. If he wasn't careful, Keith could shatter. He took a couple steps towards his roommate while Lotor stayed where he was, glowering down at Keith.  
"Lance," He barked, and Keith flinched, but Lance seemed unfazed. "Go back to the party. I can handle this." Lance furrowed his brows and looked back to Keith, who was shaking like a leaf.

"Are you sure?"

Lotor gave Lance a smile, and while Lance found it reassuring, Keith found it particularly menacing. "I'm positive. I know Keith- we dated."

Lance tensed up. Jealousy coursed through his veins like ink through a pen, and he looked back at Keith with silent shock. He stood, dusted himself off, gave Keith one last glare and walked away. He had a bad feeling, though, so he stayed close enough to hear the conversation but far enough so that neither of the two could hear him.  
"L-Lance..." Keith's small voice didn't reach Lance's ears from where he stood, and Keith knew it, but he tried calling for help anyway. Lotor's smile turned into a sneer as he looked down at Keith. His eyes seemed to glow against the shadows of his face and Keith's face contorted in fear. "No. No, no, please no." Keith whimpered.

"Keith, it really is nice to see you again." He kneeled in front of where Keith sat and grinned at him. "I apologize for your loss. It seems as if you just need someone, yes?" Keith's breathing worsened and Lotor's eyes narrowed.

"Go away. Go away, please. I thought you were done. Aren't you satisfied? What's wrong with you?!" Keith's voice became shrill, panicky. He was scared. He was so, so scared. For the first time since tenth grade, he felt the urge to call for his mother. His super-strong, stubborn, tough spitfire of a mother.   
Fat tears rolled down his face. Anguish. Dread. Pain. He tried to stand, to run, but found as soon as he put weight on it, his ankle gave out from under him. He cried out and fell back to the ground, realizing with terror that his ankle was injured from when he kicked the tree. He couldn't run. And even if he could, he could barely see in this darkness, this pitch-black. He whimpered and put his hands on his head. Lotor snickered and grabbed his wrists, gripping them tightly and pulling them away from his face. "What did I tell you, Kitten?"

"I-I'm so-orry." He stuttered, trying to wrench his hands from Lotor's. "Please, p-please let go."

"Nope," Lotor popped his 'p', leaning closer to Keith. "I told you to look at me while I fuck you." He smashed his lips against Keith's and pinned Keith's wrists over his head with one of his hands, thereby immobilizing him. He took his other hand and grabbed Keith's jaw, keeping it in place. Lance, who'd been watching everything from the background, was utterly shocked. He wanted- no, needed to step in, but he feared that any move he tried to make would be easily thwarted by Lotor.   
Keith's cries were muffled against Lotor's lips and his tears harder as he tried to jerk his head away from Lotor, but he was too weak. Too pathetic. Oh, how he wanted to die in that moment. He wanted to be smote by God himself, hit with a lightening bolt. Maybe then they both would be killed and he could drag Lotor's bitch ass to hell with him.  
Keith felt Lotor's knee on his crotch and he yelped, breaking the kiss for a moment. Lotor looked at him with fury and lust, a look Keith knew well. He was so scared. Then, he met Lance's eyes. Those eyes, god how they were pretty.

Lance finally mustered the courage to step in when Keith looked him straight in the eye, his own eyes pleading for help. "Hey!" He called, stepping out from behind the tree he had been hidden by. Lotor turned in surprise and Keith seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Get away from him or I swear to god I'll call the cops!" Lotor sneered and stood, practically throwing Keith to the ground. He stalked over to Lance, stopping right next to him.   
"For your own good," He said lowly. "don't call the police. It would also be in your best interest not to tell a soul about this." He then walked away, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket and whistling a tune. Lance waited until Lotor was long gone before running towards Keith. 

"Keith," He all but yelled, falling to his knees and helping Keith to sit up. The younger boy was grimy and dirty and sniffling, but thankfully alive. Keith sat up against the tree and groaned. Lance tugged his roommate into a hug, feeling a wetness on his shoulder as Keith buried his face into Lance's jacket. "Can you stand?" He said, quiet and as soothing as he could muster.

Keith slightly hiccuped against more tears and pushed himself away from Lance, using a low hanging branch to pull himself up. The minute he got both feet on the ground he exclaimed loudly, falling into Lance. "My ankle..." He rasped, too drained to even try to insist that he's fine. Lance looked down and saw that Keith's ankle was swelling through his shoe. Lance tsked and grabbed Keith's phone- which he'd spotted a couple minutes earlier- then draped Keith's arm around his shoulders, helping him stand upright. They took the long route, much to the silent dismay of Keith, and made it back around to the front of the school. They saw Pidge and Hunk ahead, seemingly looking around, and Lance called out to them. They turned and saw the two, immediately running up to help out. Hunk gently helped Keith from Lance's hands and gave him a piggy-back ride, Keith protesting quietly against the excessive amount of help.   
"We're your friends," Hunk said, quietly, for Keith (and only Keith) to hear as the four walked back to the dorms. "We're happy to help." Hunk and Pidge accompanied Lance and Keith to their room, even though their dorm was the next building over. Lance thanked them and Keith just averted his eyes in shame as Hunk sat him down on his bed and asked him if he was alright. Keith didn't answer, even the second time.  
After realizing that they weren't going to get an answer from him, they bid the roommates goodnight and left, leaving Keith and Lance sitting across from each other.   
"What happened?" Lance murmured, looking at Keith with concern. Keith met his eyes and furrowed his brows. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it with a click of his teeth. He frowned and blinked away phantom tears- he'd already cried enough that night to last him a lifetime. After a couple minutes, Lance sighed and stood, going to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Keith asked, and Lance could hear the panic in his voice. He turned and gave Keith a reassuring smile.   
"I'm not leaving," He said. "I'm getting a first aid kit so I can wrap your foot."

"Oh."

Lance grabbed the kit as quickly as he could and went back out, kneeling in front of Keith and gently wiggling off his shoe. He heard soft gasps from Keith as he did this and felt bad, so he tried to be a little more careful. His tries were in vain, though, because when he finally worked the shoe off Keith's foot, he heard a quiet yelp.   
"Lo siento, lo siento muy, cariño." Lance whispered absentmindedly into the dark, to Keith, who couldn't comprehend a word that Lance was saying. Maybe that was a good thing, since Lance doubted that Keith would react warmly to his calling him 'darling'. In his defense, he couldn't help it- it just kinda slipped out. Not that Lance regretted it.   
He took out the Ace bandages and wrapped Keith's foot tightly, making sure that it couldn't move. He'd done this before- Lance, having many younger siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews, was fairly skilled in first aid.   
"It's not broken," Lance said, standing up and putting his hands on his hips, looking down at Keith with a small smile. "Just sprained- we can get you crutches tomorrow before your first class." Keith nodded and allowed Lance to tend to his other cuts and bruises, only hissing slightly whenever the antiseptic came into contact with his open wounds. Whenever this happened, Lance would apologize quietly, as if on reflex.

When finished, Lance sat on the floor, sighing in relief. He leaned back to look at the clock next to his bed and frowned when he saw that it read a little after two am. He ran a hand through his hair and stood once more, looking at Keith, who was shivering slightly. Though Lance had his jacket on, he could feel the cold nipping at his legs through his leggings and couldn't wait to get under his comforter. He couldn't imagine what sleeping without so much as a blanket would be like, especially when hurt.

"Hey, Keith," Keith looked up from his phone- it wasn't on, he was just looking at the further damage his phone had sustained when he threw it -and up at Lance.

"Yeah?"

"Do you..." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. No- why would he be uncomfortable? That's crazy. This is for Keith's sake, just fucking do it, pussy. "Do you wanna sleep with me tonight?" Keith's eyes widened and Lance saw a barely concealed blush spread across his face. Lance knew that he probably wasn't much better, though. "I mean, it's too cold to sleep without a blanket, since the heat is broken, and, uhh-"

"Okay." Really? He would've thought that Keith would need coaxing to actually warm up to the idea, so Keith's instantaneous affirmation was surprising. Lance looked up from his feet and into Keith's eyes. Lance, as if realizing it for the first time, marveled at the beauty behind Keith's gaze. Wow. His roommate's smile was sad and grateful, and Lance thought in that moment that Keith couldn't get any more beautiful.  
No other words needed to be said for Lance, so he helped Keith to the bathroom and gave him his pajamas, getting changed and waiting outside to help Keith back. After what seemed like an eternity, Keith emerged from the bathroom and Lance helped him to his own plush bed, where he drew back the comforter and helped Keith in. It was a tense, but comfortable silence as Lance got under the covers, turning his back to Keith's.

"Hey, Lance?" Keith said, his voice little more than a whisper.

"Yeah?"

There was a silence for just a moment, then Keith spoke and Lance could hear a smile in his tone.   
"Thank you."

\---

Keith awoke the next morning and felt, for the first time, genuinely refreshed. Then he remembered the night before and felt cruddy all over again. He turned onto his back, wincing when he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, then sighed, looking up at the popcorn ceiling. Lance was still next to him, and he could hear soft snores coming from the right side of the bed. He smiled. He really did like Lance, and the guy was just too nice. He couldn't believe how caring Lance had been, even with him being such a burden on the friend group. He tried to remember the small details from the last night but could only put together a choppy timeline:

1\. Go to party

2\. Play truth or dare

3\. Find out mom was dead

4\. Run into woods

5\. Get found by Lance and Lotor

6\. Lotor makes Lance leave, but Lance stays apparently

7\. Lotor tries to pull something

8\. Lance calls Lotor out

9\. Lotor leaves

10\. Back to the dorm; Lance gives first aid

11\. Sleep in the same bed

He groaned softly, putting his hands to his face. He looked at his hands- he'd not worn his bandages to the party, but tried to hide his faint-but-still-there scars, He hadn't put them back on, but he found that he didn't really want to. It was nice not to have them on, making his arms feel dirty and making him feel like he'd done something wrong. He had, of course. He shouldn't have cut. But it still made him feel bad when he looked at the scars and thought of the one time when he'd been living with Shiro and was discovered in the bathroom a bloody mess. Shiro had been livid. It was understandable- he would've been livid. He heard Lance stir and quickly shut his eyes, turning back onto his side before Lance really woke up.   
Lance sat upright, and Keith could feel a presence over him for a second before the dip Lance'd made in the bed from sitting filled out and Lance walked to the kitchen, presumably to make himself breakfast. He sat up to see Lance looking at him from the foot of the bed.   
He gave Lance a small smile and got out of the bed, shivering when his feet touched the floor. Damn, this hardwood could be cold. He limped over to his side of the room, picked up his phone and sat on his own bed, calling Shiro.

"Keith?" The line was picked up immediately and Shiro sounded super concerned. Keith chuckled sadly and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.   
"Yeah," He said, last night's sadness coming back to him in waves. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry for hanging up like that last night."

"It's alright. I'm sorry to tell you over text like that."

"It's... It's fine. Thanks for telling me, regardless." 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't say that, please."

"Okay."

They spoke for a little while, trying to keep the topic off Keith's mother. Lance stood near the kitchen, listening to Keith's side of the conversation and wondering why Keith wasn't telling Shiro about what happened with Lotor. He furrowed his brows and shrugged, scratching his head and walking into the kitchen to make himself coffee and toast.

"Yeah, I'll see you soon, Shiro. Yep. Thanks. Mhmm. You too. Bye."   
Lance heard Keith get off the phone and sigh. He poked his head out of the kitchen to see Keith, his phone in his hand and his head hung low.

"You okay, buddy?" Lance asked. Keith's head raised and Lance didn't need to even hear what Keith was going to say, since he already knew from the sarcastic glare he got: 'You're fuckin' kidding me, right?'

"You're fuckin' kidding me, right?" Keith halfway snarled. Lance was impressed with himself. He stuck his head back into the kitchen and started making coffee.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm making coffee, you want any?" He heard no response for a moment, only quiet grunts as Keith got his aching foot onto the bed. Then Lance heard a muffled 'Sure', so he poured Keith a cup (Keith, predictably, liked his coffee black) and one for himself, taking a sip of it and sighing when he felt the heat warm his body up. He gave the second cup to Keith, who basically slammed the entire thing in one go despite the heat of the drink.   
"Damn, you chugged that thing." 

"You should see me with a fuckin' Venti." Keith said, looking at Lance with a wry smile. Lance returned it then turned when there was a knock at the door. Lance opened it and grinned when he saw Pidge and Hunk and Allura.   
"Come on in." He said, making way for the three. They all came in and gave Keith sympathetic smiles, which Keith didn't return at all. He didn't need their pity. He didn't need to be seen as weak. He was strong, goddamnit.

"Hey, Keith." Hunk said, sitting on the floor. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Keith averted his gaze and crossed his arms defensively, half to hide his scars and half subconsciously protecting himself from a threat that wasn't even there. Or maybe it was. He stole a glance at Allura, who looked it him with scrutiny and annoyance. He watched her grab Pidge's arm and go outside. Lance and Hunk saw this happen as well, but didn't say anything due to their polite natures. Lance nursed his coffee uncomfortably for a long moment before the two came back in, Pidge looking halfway pissed and Allura looking full on pissed.   
"We have to go. Something came up." she stressed that last bit, looking at Allura with anger. Allura just looked away, crossing her arms as Keith had. Keith watched with disdain as they both left, leaving him with Lance and Hunk. Hunk pulled at his collar, seemingly a little put off by the two girls' attitudes. He stood and said goodbye, after which leaving hastily after them.

"What the fuck was that?" Lance chuckled. Keith just frowned and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Allura doesn't like me."

"She doesn't have to. The rest of us do. The rest of us will have your back, man." Lance said absentmindedly, sitting on his bed and checking his phone. He didn't seem to think much of what he said, but Keith's eyes were wide. The concept of someone 'having his back' was so foreign to him, yet so comforting at the same time. He'd only ever had three- scratch that, two -people in his corner, and now one of those remaining is dead. The last one is his brother, who lived hours away. He was so unfamiliar with having friends, with having people to back him up when he needed it. He had a couple more people in his corner of the ring, now, and was glad to.

"Cool." He muttered, a small grin adorning his face. Lance looked up and smiled back. And that was the time that Keith remembered how hopelessly in love he was with Lance. He'd almost forgotten within the confines of this situation, and he couldn't say whether he was happy the thoughts were back. At least it overpowered his other thoughts, the ones about his mother dead in a coffin and the ones where Lotor was only a couple steps away across a hallway. He pushed that away again and thought about Lance.

They sat for a while, doing their respective activities, until Keith sighed and put his phone down on the bed. Lance turned and raised an eyebrow. Keith looked at him solemnly.   
"I don't wanna go to class today." 

Lance's face softened and he frowned lightly. "That's okay." Lance said. "It's completely understandable that you'd want to just chill out after- after, uhm, well, you know."  
Keith scowled and leaned up against his pillow, staring at the wall in front of him.

"Are you..." Keith began, glaring at every bubble in the paint, every speck that the whiteness of the wall faltered. After a moment of putting together the context clues, Lance figured out what Keith was trying to avoid saying. He shook his head and gave Keith a small smile.   
"No," He said, sitting up in his bed. "I have today off."   
Keith seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Lance noticed that though Keith had gotten a full night's sleep, the rings under his eyes were still prominent. He wondered how long it'd been since Keith got some good sleep, and he figured that even though Keith slept through the night, the sleep was anything but good; it was probably restless and plagued with nightmares. Lance felt so bad.  
"Do you..." Lance averted his gaze and fidgeted. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Keith sighed again and rubbed his face.   
"I don't even wanna think about it." He grumbled, crossing his arms and meeting Lance's gaze. Lance returned the heavy look with one of understanding, of reassurance. "Okay." He said. "We don't have to talk. We can do something else."

"Who says I want to do something?" Keith watched Lance stand and stretch cautiously.

"Relax. We won't leave the dorm. We can chill here." Lance gave him a signature grin, one that Keith loved because of its uniqueness, and how it basically erased every other thought in his mind; one that was lopsided and put those oh-so-kissable lips on display perfectly. He loved when Lance smiled. And he loved it even more when Lance's eyes smiled with his mouth. It was a flawless picture, one of beauty and confidence (without being too cocky).

Keith let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and returned Lance's grin with a grim smile of his own. He needed Lance to help him forget about what was happening. Not forever, but long enough so that he could gather his thoughts before he grieved. Long enough that he could explain the entire situation to Shiro; long enough to think. "Okay." He mumbled, looking down and suppressing a blush.

Lance walked over and put his hand on Keith's shoulder, provoking the other to look up. He saw that grin on Lance's face and a shiver went down his spine. "I have a feeling that everything's going to turn out, man. It may not be good now, but I'm positive it will be. So let's forget about that bs for now and watch a movie, kay? You can pick."

Keith stood, unsteadily at first due to his bum ankle, but righted himself and allowed Lance to give him a hug. He wrapped his own arms around Lance's torso and buried his head in the fabric of Lance's jacket.

He smells nice. Keith thought. I want him to hug me more often. He smells nice.

When they detached, Keith shivered at the loss of warmth. Lance, seeing this, took off his jacket and wrapped it around Keith's shoulders. Keith looked at Lance for reassurance, and Lance just smiled. It was a silent conversation, but any teacher can tell you that actions speak louder than words. Keith smiled back and put the jacket on right. Lance grabbed him by the too-long sleeve of the hoodie and helped him to Lance's own bed, Sitting Keith down and grabbing his laptop. They then leaned on the many pillows that littered Lance's bed and covered themselves under the comforters and blankets, curling up and starting to look for a movie.   
"Can we watch Coco?" Keith asked quietly. "You said it was your favorite, right?" Lance hummed in approval. "Sure." He said, pulling up Netflix and starting the movie.

Though Keith couldn't understand a lick of what the people were saying for half the time, it was an overall good movie. Keith, around the half-way point had let his head fall onto Lance's shoulder. Lance scooted a bit closer to accommodate, and they silenced once more. They were so close, but neither felt the overwhelming sexual tension that they usually did. It was more casual; there was less thinking involved, and I think it benefited both of them that way.

Keith grew drowsy soon after and drifted off a couple times, waking up to the sound of a guitar or a yell. Lance was unaware of this though, and Keith had fallen asleep completely by the time the movie was over. When it did finish, he closed out of Coco. "So, what do you wanna do ne-" He cut himself off when he saw Keith on his shoulder, out cold. He sighed and looked down at the younger boy fondly. This kid had seen so much hardship, and he was only seventeen, too. Lance lightly brushed Keith's bangs from his face, giving him a better look at his roommate. Keith breathed deeply, evenly, and Lance knew that it wouldn't do any good to wake him up, so he didn't. He carefully grabbed his earbuds from his nightstand and plugged them in, watching movies until he got hungry again. He didn't want to leave Keith, but he was still hungry as fuck. He groaned ever so quietly and picked up his phone, texting Hunk to bring over some food and to come in quietly. Hunk agreed and brought the roommates food, raising his eyebrow at Lance when he saw Keith knocked out on his shoulder. Lance just shrugged with the arm that wasn't monopolized by Keith's face and waved Hunk goodbye. He ate his sandwich (made by Hunk) and put Keith's (which was also made by Hunk, and in one of those little zip-lock baggies) on the nightstand.   
He watched movies for about another hour and then fell asleep himself.

\---NSFW TIME---

Lance woke up before Keith. He didn't know whether it was because his brain told him that he was sleeping too much, or because he had nightmarish dreams that were forgotten upon his wake, but he did know that when he looked outside the window, seeing snow falling and way too many stars for him to count, he was happy. 

He smiled at the sky and yawned, picking up his phone and checking the time. It was around two in the morning, and Lance was pretty surprised he slept that long. His laptop lay precariously on its side, abandoned when Lance shifted to his own side. He realized that he was on his side in that moment, and realized that he was practically spooning Keith, who was nuzzled into his chest, and was still out like a light. His face went red and he groaned silently as to not wake Keith, then he resigned to his fate and settled back down onto his pillows. He moved out a little bit and looked down at Keith's face. Beautiful, but that was nothing new; his eyelashes fluttered on his pale cheeks, sending shadows across the rest of his moon-lit face. Lance sighed and touched Keith's cheekbone fondly, light as could be. He wanted to kiss that skin- he wanted to kiss every part of Keith.   
He looked at Keith forlornly, wanting to give his roommate all the love he deserved. But he knew that was all they'd be- roommates. He frowned and looked away, but he was drawn back quickly when he heard a small, barely heard whimper. Keith grimaced in his sleep, and Lance's lips were open, ajar, as he watched Keith writhe slightly. A nightmare... Keith was having a nightmare? Lance shushed him, putting a hand on Keith's cheek and running his thumb along right under his eyes.   
"It's okay." Lance whispered underneath his breath, trying to be as quiet as possible. "You're okay. You're with me. Everything's gonna be alright."   
Gradually, Keith drifted back into a dreamless sleep, and lance released the breath he'd been holding. He was grateful that Keith didn't wake up- if he had, Lance wouldn't have known what to do. He bit his lip. Keith was asleep, right? He wouldn't wake up, right? Lance would be careful. Right? He swallowed hard and pulled his hand off Keith's face, weighing his options. Finally he came to a decision. He swallowed again and moved the hair off of Keith's forehead. He let his lips fall upon Keith's forehead softly, letting them linger for just a couple seconds before pulling off.   
He gasped slightly as he did. Keith stared at him, eyes wide, confused. Those eyes- beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.   
"Lance?" Keith whispered, his voice barely carrying even to Lance. "What are you doing?"

Cogs spun in Lance's head, trying to come up with a good excuse. When he couldn't, he breathed in shakily and blinked, tearing his gaze away from Keith's. "Nothing. I'm sorry." Lance said, sitting up and getting out from under the covers. Keith shivered at the sudden loss of warmth, even though he had a jacket. He sat up too, watching Lance stand and put on his shoes.   
"Lance," Keith said softly. He felt the air leave his body as Lance turned back to him, his eyes full of remorse and embarrassment. "Lance, where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I'm sorry." The repetition began to annoy Keith as Lance grabbed for his other sweatshirt and pulled it on, putting his hand on the doorknob.   
"Stop; Lance, you'll freeze out there with just a hoodie. Come back and talk to me."

"No."

"Stop it! Lance, did you fuckin' kiss me?"

"No. Fuck off." He took a step out the door and Keith had enough. He got out from the bed and stood his ground in the middle of the room, favoring his ankle. He wanted to look tough, but it didn't work as well with his bum ankle.

"What the fuck? I'm just trying to talk to you." Keith growled.

"Then stop trying, douchebag."   
Keith's nostrils flared and he unsteadily marched over to Lance, jabbing him with his pointer finger. Lance took a step back, but Keith took one forward.

"Lance, if you don't tell me what's going on right goddamn now, I swear to god-"

"Who are you, my mom?" Lance spat. Then he gave a sneer, a horrible mockery of that smile of his. Keith was taken aback for a moment until Lance hit Keith with the final blow. "Wait, you wouldn't know, would you- you're mom's fuckin' dead!" Keith froze and Lance turned around, his eyes full of hatred, but Keith saw regret. Yes, Keith saw regret, or maybe that was his imagination grasping at straws. Lance left and slammed the door. Keith stood there in the middle of the room. Why was Lance being so mean? Why did Lance say that to him? Why?

Keith choked on tears and fell to the floor, slumping over and gasping out a sob. Why? Wasn't Lance supposed to be nice? Didn't he do all those things him? Didn't he say all those things? Why was he going back on it now of all times? He cried for a moment, then stood shakily up. He wasn't going to let this ruin his and Lance's relationship. He knew what happened, and he would make it right. He wasn't going to lay down and die.   
He pulled the door open and half-ran down the hall, trying to catch up with Lance. He turned the corner and saw Lance walking towards the doors and heaved out another, quieter sob. "Lance!" He yelled, his voice hoarse and sad. Lance turned with fire in his expression, but that fire was snuffed when he saw Keith leaning against the wall, panting. Keith ran (hobbled) towards him and Lance, for a moment, thought that Keith was gonna kill him. He thought that for a second, yes, but was (pleasantly) surprised when Keith slammed him against the wall, kissing him roughly.   
Kissing him. Kissing him. Lance, when he realized what was happening, started to kiss back, just as roughly. They switched positions and Keith was suddenly against the wall, but their stigma wasn't any different.   
Anger, hatred, any other negative emotion was being brought out by their make-out session. Lance bit Keith's lip and slipped his tongue in when he gasped, the ashy taste of cigarettes and salty tears filling his mouth. It was an unexpectedly good taste, and it was becoming of Keith to taste in such a way. 

Keith, on the other hand, tasted buttery popcorn from their movie session and the inherent taste of warmth, something that he couldn't describe but inadvertently felt when with Lance. It made him want to cry all over again.   
Lance broke the kiss and looked at Keith with eyes clouded over in fondness and lust.

Keith swallowed hard and let Lance drag him back to their dorm. When inside Lance threw him onto the bed and got on top of him, kissing him again; this time, though, it was more passionate than angry. Keith kissed back and wrapped his arms around Lance's neck.   
Lance, once again pulling away, spoke with a voice so deep and gruff that it took the air right out of Keith's lungs. "When do you turn eighteen?"

"Yesterday."

"Good." Lance resumed kissing Keith in that way and Keith wondered for a moment if Lance was a literal god.   
Lance stopped kissing Keith's mouth and moved down to Keith's neck, pulling off the jacket that still wrapped Keith's arms. He then tugged Keith's shirt over his head and left purple bruises along his collarbone, biting the skin with such voracity that Keith thought Lance might bite off his flesh. He grit his teeth against the pain until it started to feel good in the heat of the moment. He moaned softly as Lance worked his way to his jeans and zipped down his fly. He hesitated and looked up to Keith, as if asking for permission. Keith, who was getting antsy, nodded quickly and allowed Lance to pull down his pants and give him a BJ. To be completely honest, Keith'd never had one. He'd had (nonconsensual) sex before, sure, and he'd (nonconsensually) given them, sure, but he'd never been given one, and never by Lance. He loved it.  
Lance caught Keith's gaze and hummed against his cock, scraping his teeth on the sensitive skin. Keith exclaimed and threw his head back, but brought his eyes back to Lance's own within a second. He felt a pressure in his stomach and knew that he was about to climax, but he held it in for a couple seconds. He wondered if Lance had a gag reflex, and if he did then it wasn't apparent in this situation. He then released with a cry, noticing that Lance swallowed every bit except for a small dribble down his skin. Lance wiped it away with a cocky grin.  
"That didn't take long." He said, his voice hoarse. Keith felt a laugh rise up in his throat, but he didn't laugh. He only allowed a small smile to play on his lips, sitting up and kissing Lance's softly. He looked into Lance's eyes, seeing that the clouds that were once in them were clearing, making for clear skies. He then stood and changed, not really caring about if Lance saw because 1. Lance had just seen a whole lot of him and 2. He was frankly too tired to care. He pulled on sweat pants and put on a new t-shirt, then threw some to Lance. Lance also changed quickly, though he didn't put on a shirt. He preferred that when he was sleeping.

They silently got into bed, Lance taking on the role of the big spoon (unsurprisingly) and Keith cuddling up, once again, to Lance's chest. Keith sighed and looked up at Lance. "What are we?" Keith asked quietly. Lance met his gaze and Keith could see oceans, waves, sea foam in those eyes. Lance saw the stars in Keith's. "What comes after this?"

Lance frowned and caressed Keith's cheek, once again rubbing his thumb along under his eye. "I don't know. I'm sorry, though." Keith heard how Lance's throat was and suppressed a giggle, trying to keep the conversation serious.   
"For what?" Keith knew what for, but he needed to hear Lance say it. He needed the consolation that Lance knew what he did wrong. Although he knew that Lance would be remorseful, he also knew that Lance was stubborn and would rarely admit anything. If Lance was really as sorry as he sounded, he would apologize directly.

"For mocking you about your mom's death," He said, looking away. Keith reached up and guided Lance's face towards his again, but couldn't do a thing to direct Lance's gaze back to his own. "For kissing you while you were asleep. For leaving when we should've talked. You were right. I'm sorry." Keith sighed and smiled slightly, stretching up and giving Lance a kiss on the cheek.

"I can't forgive you right away for some of that. But I can work through it if you're beside me."

Lance looked at him with shock and Keith chuckled sadly. "What are you saying?" Lance asked. "You're not mad?"

"Of course I'm mad. But I can deal with the anger. Anger is my default." Keith said, smiling through the couple tears that rolled down his cheeks. Lance brushed them away. "I wanted you to be sorry, and now I know you are. I'm saying that it's not okay that you said all those things, but it's better to face things head on then to beat around the bush."

"Oh."

They stayed in the dark for a while, neither able to fall asleep. It was silence, both comfortable and excruciatingly tense. "Are you awake?" Lance whispered, just in case Keith was sleeping, which, of course, he wasn't.   
"No." Keith whispered back. He'd originally resolved not to say a thing, to feign sleep, but decided not to. He didn't know why he decided not to, but he couldn't help it.

"Do you like me?" Lance asked, his voice a little above what it was before. Keith's mouth parted and he looked up to meet Lance's gaze.   
He planned to say something perfectly articulated in return, something elegant and wordy, something to make him sound like an intellectual. Instead, he choked out a strangled "Huh?" in embarrassment.

"Do you like me?" Lance repeated again. Keith swallowed hard and felt his face go red. He tried and failed to push it back down, but suddenly not caring when he saw that Lance was blushing terribly as well.

"Uhm-" Keith was cut off.

"You don't have to answer now, of course. You can tell me later, or you can think about it for a while. Or if you prefer, you never have to answer me and we can forget this all ever happened!" He laughed nervously and breathed in the continue, getting shushed by Keith immediately. He looked down and saw Keith smiling with such happiness that he was taken aback.

"Yes." Keith said. "Yes, I do like you. A lot."

"Oh," Lance said, his blush worsening. "D-Do you... Do you maybe wanna... uh... b-b-be my-"

"Yes. Yes, I'll be your boyfriend."

Lance's face was just a deep shade of red in that moment and Keith chuckled, forgetting all the prior sadness of that night. He found that a flustered Lance was a cute Lance, and smiled even wider. Lance grinned when Keith agreed and kissed him softly.  
For the first time after Lotor, Keith associated the word boyfriend with good feelings, with happy ones. For the first time after Lotor, he'd had a sexual encounter that was wholesome and consensual. He smiled. He was happy- because of Lance, because of life. In those long, agonizing seconds, he forgot all about his troubles. He forgot about the death of his mother, forgot that Lotor was right across the hall. Forgot that they'd had that argument. He was so happy. He closed his eyes and nuzzled back into Lance's chest, falling asleep soon after. 

\---

Lance looked down at Keith that next morning, who lay sleeping next to him. He smiled and got out from under the covers slowly, chuckling when Keith whined at the loss of warmth. Lance covered him back up and he stopped stirring, only curling into the heavy comforter with a soft sigh. He meandered tiredly along the hardwood flooring, going into the kitchen and making himself breakfast. He was debating skipping class today, but decided against it. He had a later schedule that day with only one class, so it wouldn't make much of a difference. Keith, he knew, had the day off, and that relieved him greatly. They would hang out and spend some time together, getting to know each other until Lance had to go to class. It'd also do good to keep Keith off of his ankle, which was getting better; Lance wanted to keep it that way. He sighed and cracked some eggs in a pan, putting some coffee on a pot. He rather disliked coffee- he liked hot chocolate and sweeter things. But as long as he filled at least half the cup with cream and dumped five tablespoons of sugar in his mug, the bitter-tasting liquid wouldn't make him grimace too much. Keith, on the other hand, drank it black, and Lance couldn't comprehend how someone could do such a thing. Grody.   
The eggs (scrambled) sizzled and cracked, a strong yellow against the black of the pan. Both he and Keith liked eggs, though Lance liked his plain and Keith liked his with syrup, for some strange reason. What a fucking heathen, now that he thought about it. He bet Keith was the type to pour the milk in before the cereal or eat a kit kat by biting the entire thing rather than breaking it. (A/N: To be frank I do all of these things and have no problem with it so I'm shunned by all my friends lol) He sighed and slid the eggs onto some plates, grabbing some toast from the toaster that he'd put them in. He poured himself and Keith some coffee and brought it into the main room, where Keith was just starting to wake up. Keith yawned and sat up, stretched, shivered, and blinked the sleep from his eyes. He then looked to Lance and gave him a small smile. 

"Mornin', babe." Lance said, setting the plates down and giving Keith a peck on the cheek. Keith immediately went red and looked at Lance incredulously. Lance raised his eyebrow and grinned, holding back a chuckle. Slowly, Keith's face morphed from confusion to realization to embarrassment to relief and finally to a smile. "Good morning to you too." Keith said, his voice deep and gruff. He cleared his throat and gave Lance a thankful look when he handed Keith a cup of coffee, drinking the hot beverage desperately. Lance sat down and got under the covers again, propping himself back on the pillows and grabbing their plates. They settled the dishes on their laps and ate in silence. Keith leaned on Lance's shoulder as they did and Lance could feel Keith's jaw working. It was rather entertaining to say the least. Lance, being hungry, finished his off quickly and waited patiently for Keith to finish his own food. He looked down. Keith stared off into space, his face holding no emotion. Lance waved his hand in front of Keith's glazed over eyes. "Earth to Keith," He said, grabbing Keith's attention. "Are you done?" Keith smiled sheepishly and nodded. Lance took his plate and put both of theirs on the nightstand next to him, settling back down into the bed with Keith. They slid down on the pillows, almost lying down, but not quite.  
"Whaddya wanna do?" He mumbled. He toyed with Keith's hair, playing with it and knotting it into small braids. Keith hummed the 'I don't know' sound and shrugged slightly. "We can sleep som'more, if you want, or we can go outside and chill, or we can hang out with Hunk and Pidge and Allura. I know they've been wanting to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine."

Lance huffed at his boyfriend's denial, then smiled. His boyfriend. He had a boyfriend and that boyfriend was Keith. He felt giddy inside, like when he bounded down the stairs on Christmas mornings to presents that were all addressed to him and his brothers and sisters and cousins. It was happy time for family, and that's what they made it. He wondered if Keith had ever really celebrated Christmas, and figured that they would spend it together that year. "I know you're fine, babe, they just want to see it for themselves. We can all go get ice cream or something, and I can get crutches from Hunk. He always has a spare pair. Please?"

Keith seemed to think about it for a moment, then sighed in resignation. He turned his head over and gave Lance a 'You owe me' look. "Fine. But if we go for ice cream I want chocolate."   
"Deal. I'll text the gang."

LanccMaster: Yo yo yo cocksuckers

Pigeon: You're the cocksucker but whaddup

ChefFromVomitCake: I agree with Pidge

PrincessOfWhat: I also agree with Pidge

ChefFromVomitCake: You always agree with Pidge you're biased

PrincessOfWhat: True but she's my girlfriend

ChefFromVomitCake: Touche

LanccMaster: GUYS GUYS GUYS STFU

LanccMaster: Okay two things

Lanccmaster: First Keith and I just started dating

PrincessOfWhat: Oh

Pigeon: Hunk Hunk

ChefFromVomitCake: Yes papa

Pigeon: Do you have my fifty bucks

ChefFromVomitCake: No papa

Pigeon: Telling lies

ChefFromVomitCake: No papa

Pigeon: Open up your wallet

ChefFromVomitCake: Ha ha ha

PrincessOfWhat: What

LanccMaster: Lol okay second thing

LanccMaster: Meet me at that cute little creamery right across from the school you know the one next to the pizza place also Hunk bring some crutches if you would Keith's ankle is sprained pretty bad

ChefFromVomitCake: Can do buckaroo

Pigeon: I'll go now

LanccMaster: Cool see you there in like twenty

Lance sighed and closed his phone, looking to Keith who was on his. "Yo, Keith," He said, drawing his roommate's attention. "We're going for ice cream in twenty. Let's change and meet them there."  
"'Them' being?"

"Pidge, Hunk, and Allura. Just the rest of the group." Keith's face slightly fell at the mention of Allura, but it didn't show much and Lance thought that he could've been imagining it. Keith smiled.

"Oh, okay."

The two boys changed into appropriate attire for the weather, that for Lance being a long sleeved v-neck and jeans and for Keith being a black hoodless sweatshirt with the AJR logo in it with some black jeans and a black beanie. When he came out of the bathroom, Lance smiled. "Wow, such an edgelord. Lovin' the AJR hoodie, though. Living Room or The Click?"

"The Click, easily."

They walked to the ice cream shop. Lance supporting Keith as his ankle was pretty much shot. Lance loved the cool weather, though, and the cold air felt good in his lungs. He noticed that Keith pretty much despised it, however, and took note of this. They got to the shop without any problems, spotting the rest of the group there, sitting at a round metal table. Hunk quickly got up and helped Keith get situated with crutches, then they all sat down after getting ice cream. Keith silently ate his while Lance spoke, aware of the other three's gazes that were trained onto him.

"So," Lance said, grinning and scratching his head. "I know you guys wanted to see Keith, and here he is."

"Yeah, how are you doing, Keith?" Hunk asked gently, but not pityingly. Keith appreciated that.  
"I'm okay." Keith said, taking a solid bite of his ice cream.

"That's good." Pidge said, plunging her spoon into her own mint-chip. Hunk ate rocky road and Lance ate caramel. Allura just had vanilla, and Keith couldn't help but notice that it blended nicely with Allura's cloud-like pony-tail. No Hetero. Lance heard a faint scoff from Allura and gave her a slight glare, making her turn a little red in embarrassment. He frowned and turned back to Keith.   
"What are you going to do next?" Hunk asked. "I'm sure it won't be easy."

"I dunno. I've gotta talk to Shiro about it and I've gotta plan ahead, so it may just be easier to finish this semester before I do anything too serious." Keith said, looking at his ice cream and fiddling with the paper around the cone.

"That makes sense." Hunk said, taking a lick of his own ice cream. The table was silent for a short while. Keith stared at his ice cream as he felt a different type of stare train on the top of his head. He looked up, then quickly looked back down when he met the fiery glare of Allura. This went on for a couple minutes until Allura stood and slammed her hands on the table, making Keith flinch.  
"That's it." She said. "Keith, we need to talk." She scooted her chair back and walked out of the shop. The group looked at one another in confusion. Hunk shrugged, Pidge looked at the wall, and Lance looked at Keith with concern. He grabbed Keith's arm as he stood up. Keith looked at him with a questioning glance.  
"What's wrong with you two?" He asked in a hushed tone. Keith looked at Lance as if trying to say 'No clue', then grabbed his crutches and walked out after Allura.

He saw her leaning on a lamppost and tapping her foot impatiently. Keith went in front of her and leaned on the wall adjacent. "Okay," He said. "What's your beef?"  
"You. You're my 'beef'."

Keith raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "What for?" She got exponentially more upset, and Keith started to regret being so calm.  
"You! You're all mysterious and quiet. You're Lance's complete opposite and yet you take advantage of him by being all 'vulnerable' just to get his attention- I bet that whole shtick with Lotor wasn't even real, anyway. He doesn't seem that nice, but he also doesn't seem like the type to rape someone or whatever the fuck you accused him of. You don't belong in this friend group. You don't deserve Lance and you never will. You should just leave, or better yet, kill yourself and see your dumb-ass mom again, as if that stupid skit was even true. I bet you just set it up to get Lance's pity."

Keith looked at her for a moment. He then looked down at his feet.  
"You're right." He said.

"What?"

"You're fuckin' right." He said. He looked back up at her and she was taken aback at the fury in his eyes. "You're right about all of that. I don't belong in this group and I don't deserve Lance. I probably take advantage of him and I'm a burden to all of you. Lotor is an ass, though, and I would know- he stuck his goddamn cock in my mouth in tenth grade. But if I ever hear you utter a single insult towards my mother again, I swear to god I'll send you to meet her, and she does not take kindly to dealing with cunts like you."

He gathered his crutches under his armpits again and went back into the shop, a stormy expression on his face. Lance noticed this and walked up to him, quietly asking if he was alright. "Fine," He said. He looked up at Lance, a flash of plea bolting within his eyes. "Let's just go, please?"   
Lance nodded and grabbed his phone from the table, said goodbye to everyone, and the two left, giving Allura a frown as they did. She still stood, frozen in surprise, leaning against the post. After the two left, Pidge and Hunk emerged, speaking with each other quietly. Pidge caught Allura's eye and stayed back, waving to Hunk as he crossed the street.   
She marched over to her girlfriend and glared at her angrily through her glasses.

"What the fuck, babe? What did you say to him?"

Allura scrunched her face up into a grimace and pushed herself off the pole, walking past Pidge and across the street. "Nothing." She said as her girlfriend followed closely behind. "I don't know what got him so worked up."

\---

Keith fell onto his bed, putting his hands back to support himself. Lance stood in front of him, cross armed and watching his boyfriend with concern.  
Keith opened his eyes and met Lance's glances with a small smile. "I'm okay, Lance. She was just being kinda mean, is all. Don't worry about me."

"What'd she say?"

"Nothing too bad. It'll be alright with time."

"Okay."

There was silence for a short time as the two sat, gazes averted. For a while, they watched some dumb Netflix show in Lance's bed. They ate there too, some leftover meatball subs from last night's dinner. Keith ate his, looking at the screen with an intensity that made Lance think that maybe his boyfriend was trying to keep his eyes off of him, but he dismissed the thought after a couple minutes. 

A couple hours past and Lance announced that he had to go to class.  
"You can keep watching, if you want." He said, getting out of bed and giving Keith a smile. "I'll be back in, like, an hour." Keith sighed internally and nodded, returning the smile and playing the show when Lance left.

Lance, walking outside, took out his phone and dialed Pidge's number. She picked up almost immediately.

"Did Keith tell you what happened?" She said, her voice irritated. "Because Allura's not spouting shit."

"Nah. It's like he doesn't want to get Allura in trouble or something."

"Allura really just doesn't want to talk about it, apparently. It's kinda weird, because she's always up for bitching about Keith. It's really weird, actually."

"Yeah, that's unusual for her." Lance said. He stopped on the path and tapped his foot in thought. He then sighed, a wry grin spreading across his face. "Our partners are weird as fuck, aren't they?"

Pidge chuckled, just as wryly as Lance had been. "Yeah, but I'm actually considering breaking up with her."

"What?" Lance frowned, furrowing his brow. "I thought you two were happy?"

Lance could hear the taught scowl in Pidge's voice. "I don't know, man. She's... she's just been pretty spiteful these last few months, and I don't think I can deal with another day filled with her complaining about one of my friends who hasn't even done something wrong."

Lance hummed in acknowledgement, beginning to walk again. "If you feel that it's right, do it. It's up to you, man. I'm not going to try and convince you one way or another. And remember-"

"If I ever need to talk, come to you. Yeah, yeah. I know the drill." She said, regaining the smile in her tone. Lance grinned sadly and kept her on the phone, sitting in silence for a couple more minutes as he walked. "Hey, Lance?" She asked, her voice tense and awkward. He hummed. "Congrats on finding your SO. You both seem really nice together."

He smiled. "Thanks, Pidge. It means a lot."

"No problem, bro."

\---

Keith looked up and smiled as Lance came into the room and sighed. "Hey, Lance." He said, putting the computer down and standing, going and giving Lance a kiss. It'd been about a month since they started dating, and in that time, Pidge and Allura had broken up, and Shiro and Keith had begun planning for Keith's mom's funeral. It was set to be the day after that, so they had... something to look forward to, you could say? The problem with Pidge and Allura's relationship, or lack thereof, though, is that they were also roommates, so whenever the group would hang out with Pidge in her room, there would always be the wrong vibe in there, combined with Allura's distaste for Keith. Therefore, the group tended to avoid chilling in that room. They would normally opt to stay in Keith and Lance's room, as they more often than not had beer, since Lance was a borderline alcoholic, and Pidge liked to watch Keith draw. It was nice- Pidge would be sitting next to Keith, watching him draw, while Hunk, Lance, and sometimes Shay would sit around, lounging around and drinking. Keith usually found it uncomfortable to draw when someone was watching him, but Pidge always had this chill energy that he was kinda into, so it was fine. No hetero bro. For about a week, though, they hadn't been hanging out as much. Maybe it was because of the impending funeral, or maybe it was because Pidge and Allura had finally decided to talk it out. Nobody knew.   
Some super tense energy developed in Lance and Keith's room for that little while, and every day until the funeral, it got a little worse. Keith, being the selectively oblivious little fuck he is, decided to ignore it and try to be happy with his boyfriend. Said boyfriend, though, felt the tension vividly and hated it, but chose to stay quiet about it until Keith addressed it. Therefore, neither of them addressed it. A vicious cycle.

"Hey, babe." Lance said, his smile a little weaker than normal. He kissed back and ran his hand through Keith's hair when they split. "How're you doing? Are you going to classes tomorrow before... y'know." Keith looked away, but nodded. He didn't like talking about what was happening. That would force him to really address and talk about what happened. He'd cried, yes, he'd thought about it, yes, but he hadn't really thought about the fact that he was technically orphaned. He was going to the next day, but that didn't mean he wanted to.   
"How were your classes today?" Keith asked, sitting down and cuddling up with Lance on the bed. Since starting to date, they'd slept in the same bed because of Keith's lack of bedding. Lance'd asked about that, since Keith could always have asked Shiro to get him bedding, but Keith always shook his head and said, "There's no need for it now." Lance suspected otherwise, but dropped the subject as to not start a fight. He'd learned to pick his battles with Keith, and the bedding fight was something that he didn't want to have.

At the time, it was around four o' clock pm. Keith was getting ready for the next day, and Lance was silently supporting him. Lance was going, even though Keith didn't want him to. But they also didn't want to dwell on the saddening thoughts of funerals the day before, so they pushed it to the back of their minds and had a quick make-out session before eating dinner. They watched some more Netflix while eating, finishing up that one show about the dicks and starting the second season. Keith ate quietly and slowly, staring off into space. Lance watched him carefully, knowing that his boyfriend was thinking about heavy topics, but didn't pry. He knew that would only make things worse. He sighed and took another bite of his leftover burger, finishing it off. Keith stopped eating when he got halfway through, even though Lance tried to prompt him to eat more. Keith refused and told Lance not to worry about it, that he just wasn't all that hungry. Lance knew otherwise, but again didn't pry.   
"This show is pretty interesting, right, babe?" Lance asked after the first episode of the second season ended. He looked at Keith, who seemed distant. He frowned.

"Mhmm." Keith hummed, not really paying attention to Lance's question. Lance sighed and turned the second episode on, putting both of their plates on the nightstand to be dealt with later and getting into a more comfortable position with Keith on his chest. They watched a couple episodes more, and Lance felt weird. It was really weird, the silence. Too weird. Normally, dumb, self-deprecating jokes and stupid quips would fill the quiet, but Keith didn't say a word. He would give Lance one-word responses to questions and looked dejected, but thoughtful in a bad way. Lance was worried. He paused the show and Keith looked up at him questioningly. He looked back with a frown.

"Are you going to be okay?" Lance asked quietly. Keith's face knotted up and he looked away, trying to turn the show back on. Lance tsked and gently moved Keith's hand away from the play button. He sat up a little and held Keith closer.   
"I'll be fine, Lance. Stop worrying about me." Keith's voice was small and weak, and Lance's heart broke.

"You know I can't do that, babe." He said, running a hand through Keith's hair. Keith melted on his chest and buried his face into Lance's shoulder.   
"I'm sorry for making you worry." Keith said, his voice muffled by Lance's jacket. Lance smiled smally and kissed the top of Keith's head.  
"Don't be."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

Keith silenced and buried himself a little deeper in Lance's hoodie. It was cold out, snowing, and Keith knew that his mother would be happy. She, unlike Keith, loved the cold and would go out when it snowed. He stayed in, trying his darndest to keep warm. If she were alive then, though, you bet your ass he'd be outside with her, relishing the snow and looking at her smile. He remembered a couple Christmases back when they could afford little more than rent, but she'd scrounged up the money to get him his tablet. He'd tried to pay her back with money he'd saved up, but she turned him down and gave him a kiss on the forehead, hugging him tightly.   
"Anything for you is worth every penny." She'd said. He'd smiled and promised that one day he'd become a famous animator and take good care of her. She chuckled, and they drank hot cocoa.

Keith's mom had been in and out of a hospital his entire life, though, so he'd only ever been able to celebrate Christmas once or twice. And that was when he was very young. He smiled at the memory. "Hey, Lance?" Lance hummed in response. Keith pushed himself a little away from Lance, looking into those deep blue eyes of his. "Can you celebrate Christmas with me this year?" Lance's face erupted into a grin akin to that of a child's, and he gave Keith a huge kiss.

"Of course, babe!"

Keith smiled, settling back down onto Lance's chest. "I have a gift for you too."

"Really? What is it?"

"I'm not telling."

Lance groaned and begged Keith for a good five minutes more before they turned the show on, snuggling up against each other and trying to stay warm in their heaterless dorm. They fell asleep, bundled up in the comforters and blankets, with the laptop warm against the fabric, with Keith's head on Lance's chest and Lance holding Keith close. It was then, the night before his mother's funeral, that Keith realized that, despite what was going on in recent times, he was truly happy for the first time in a while.

\---

Lance helped Keith tie his tie quietly, no words coming from either party. The air was tense and somber, and Lance could tell that Keith was struggling to function. Lance himself was nervous and jittery, two things that came out of his feeling uncomfortable. Before they walked out the door, Lance looked back at Keith as if to ask if he was ready. Keith smiled back. "I'm okay, Lance. Don't worry." Lance nodded and walked outside, though he could see clear as day that it wasn't Lance that Keith was trying to convince, but himself. He held Keith's hand as they walked over to the parking lot where Keith's bike was parked. Lance was going to take his car, but Keith insisted that he ride his motorcycle.   
His father had given it to him right after he died, and it was his mother who taught him how to ride initially. He thought it would be disrespectful not to drive it there, so he did. The leather seat felt natural to him, as if riding was a second nature. He smiled at Lance, who was getting into his blue PT cruiser, and backed up out of the parking space. They left, Lance following Keith, who knew where to go.

Shiro looked up at the sound of a motorcycle and smiled sadly as he saw Keith take off his helmet. He saw Keith smile at another man, who got out of a beat up blue car. They walked hand in hand to the funeral site, where they were introduced.   
"Shiro, this is my boyfriend, Lance." Keith said. The two shook hands and greeted each other hello. The day was murky and grey, with snow falling to the ground in light flurries. Keith wanted that day to be over so he could go home and hang out with Lance and forget anything ever happened, but he knew that it was unavoidable. It was his mother, for pete's sake.

Everyone, a very small collection of family who all rather disliked Keith funnily enough, gathered around the graveside. A darkened red tomb was in the grave already, sitting there stagnantly. Keith swallowed hard, trying his best not to catch anyone's eye. They were all staring at him, though, so this was pretty hard. He was pulled out of his revere by Lance, who squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring half-grin.   
A priest said a few words and they finished up without any family speaking. It surprised Lance, because for him funerals were a time to come together in the face of hardship, to see the light in horrible situations. To celebrate the life of someone who didn't have one anymore. For Keith's family, it seemed, funerals were a nuisance, an occurance that happened far too often for anyone to be fazed. Nobody seemed fazed, of course, except for Keith, who squeezed Lance's hand for dear life in front of his mom's grave. Lance snagged looks at Keith's face, expecting tears- his face was stoic, hard as a rock. His eyes watered, but no tears fell. This was surprising, because Lance, who hadn't ever met the woman, was on the verge of breaking down.

Afterwards, Keith stayed back. He got a hug from Shiro before he and Adam left, but Keith stayed back with Lance, leaving the two alone. He sat in front of the now filled grave plot and sighed, clasping his hands and looking at the dirt. "Hi, mom." He croaked, mournful and sad. Lance, who stood behind, furrowed his brows. "I'm here, for once. Sorry for skipping out on you that time. I think about whether it would've happened had I been there. It probably still would've, but I like to think otherwise." He stopped and sighed again, looking up at the steadily darkening sky. His face was calm and thoughtful. "Sorry... for everything. For yelling, for dad, for being gay and for making you stressed all the time. I love you... so much. I'm gonna miss you, y'know. I wish you could've seen me become a great animator like we talked about, but I really wish you could've at least seen me graduate college. I didn't even wanna go, anyway. But at least I met someone; his name is Lance. You'd like him a lot. He's funny and sweet and everything I've ever wanted in a partner. You'd be proud."

He looked back at the grave and cocked his head slightly. "It's still kind of hard to believe that you're dead," He said, no ounce of trepidation in his tone. "I don't know if I'm in low-key denial, or what, because I feel like you're still gonna be in that hospital room, smiling at me when I come in and playing video games with me until visiting hours are over. But I'm gonna be okay, I think." He smiled and stood, turning and giving Lance a smile- small, sad, but secure. He took Lance's hand and squeezed it gently. "Yeah. I think I'll be okay." Lance returned it and Keith stepped away from the grave, looking back at it wistfully. He smiled, reminiscent and nostalgic of older, better times. Lance took note of this and let Keith lead the way, walking back to their respective rides. Keith mounted the bike and left fairly quickly, Lance tailing behind. The cemetery was near to the school, so they had no trouble finding their way back. They regrouped and Lance took Keith's hand again, the two walking slowly down the path to their dorm. The stars were out and it reminded Lance of that one night where they played twenty questions. That had to be the only silver lining of that terrible night, and Lance smiled as he noticed the first couple snowflakes of winter falling from the nearly clear skies. He squeezed Keith's hand, commanding his attention.

"Let's play twenty questions."

"Okay."

The silence was filled with mundane questions for a time, then the conversation lulled, as most do.   
"Why didn't anyone talk to you at the funeral?" Lance asked, genuinely curious. Keith's face softened and he smiled at Lance.

"My mother was... a rebel, of sorts. She had me out of wedlock, then married some deadbeat drunk who eventually came around. We were happy for a time, but I never really had grandparents since my dad's parents were dead and my mom's are utter douchebags. They were there today, and they've pretty much brainwashed the other relatives to hate me and to love Shiro, who's my half-brother. Not that I blame them- Shiro's fantastic."

"Oh. That's pretty stupid."

"Stupid? Odd choice of words." Keith grinned slightly and he chuckled.

"Yeah, stupid. You're awesome, so why wouldn't anyone want to know you? You're super cool, babe." Lance said, grinning back. Keith blushed and laughed quietly as they walked into the dorm building. As expected, the heater still didn't work. They shivered upon entry and quickly got into their room, changing and crawling in bed.   
"My mom would've loved you." Keith said quietly, cuddled against Lance's chest. Lance laughed and Keith smiled, feeling the vibrations in Lance's ribcage.

"My mom will love you, babe."

"Will?"

"I'm introducing you to her this Christmas."

"Maybe."

"Awe- Come on, Keith! Come to my house this Christmas break. You can meet my family and my dog and our chickens and my mom and cousins. It doesn't snow in SoFlo, so you'll like it, I'm sure. It gets kinda cold sometimes, though." Lance rambled about Florida, and Keith loved it. Lance could get so passionate sometimes, and he loved the way Lance described things. His boyfriend could be so articulate sometimes, even when he, most of the time, acted dumb as hell. He smiled.

"Maybe." Keith mumbled, trailing off slightly. He felt his eyes droop closed and didn't fight sleep, though it didn't come as quickly as he'd been expecting. He felt Lance chuckle and run his hand though Keith's hair. Keith sighed quietly.

"It's a start, I guess." Lance murmured, and Keith could hear the smile in his tone. Maybe he would go home with Lance that Christmas. In that moment, though, he completely forgot about what had been happening. In the moment, he felt utterly happy for the first time in weeks. He thought about good things instead of constantly dwelling on bad. He felt excitement, joy, anticipation. He also felt an overwhelming amount of love, for Lance and in general. For the first time in a while, he knew he was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ that was like 30,000 words im tired


	18. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith falls in love with Lance in the most metaphorical way

It started small; as if a rose was budding on its tiny, newborn stem, waiting for the perfect time to burst with life.

Lance began to change- slowly, but surely -and Keith took notice. Little things caught his attention like a Venus flytrap catches its prey- occasionally and stealthily. Then, once again slowly, it began to grow into something more. Like a flower, growing in the midmorning dew.

A crush, a couple fleeting glances sent Lance's oblivious way as they trained; a nervous tickle in the bottom of Keith's stomach whenever the two spoke. But it really wasn't anything noteworthy- Keith'd had these feelings before. Their team was comprised of four hormonal, possibly horny teens, a posh princess, and two rational adults that... weren't really that rational. Of course, Keith would have those feelings. It was inevitable.   
And the crush grew, much to Keith's surprise. Like that tiny rosebud, beginning to bloom under the harshest of conditions. But as this crush bloomed, so did Keith's observations.

He noticed- the way that Lance would remove Pidge's glasses from her face when she accidentally fell asleep in front of her computer, the way that he would try every single one of Hunk's 'experimental dishes', telling them that they were amazing, just to see that big lug smile. Or even the way that Lance would come to the training deck and sit in the gallery above while Keith would train himself to exhaustion during the ungodly hours of the night, only disturbing him when he was sitting incapacitated on the ground, his knuckles bloody and his eyes glazed over. Whether that glaze was from sleep or tears depended on the reason that Keith was training. More often than not, though, Lance would have to coax Keith out of a panic attack while the red paladin thought of dreams that slowly seeped from his mind.   
Keith noticed the way that Lance would kneel with him, lending his shoulder for Keith to lean on, for Keith to cry on, while Lance cleaned and wrapped his hands with the utmost care. Most times, Keith would fall into a light doze, but Lance would always, always, regardless of the state Keith was in, carry him back to his room. Would gently scold him if he was awake enough to respond.  
"You can't do this anymore, Keith," He would mutter, probably not knowing that Keith was awake on his back. "You're gonna work yourself to death."

"What if I'm okay with that?" Keith asked, once. His voice was small, and that night had been a bad one. Full of tears and pain, anger and sorrow.   
"I'm not."

"But--"

"Keith, don't worry about that now. Just get some rest. We can talk later."

They never did, though. Lance would pretend like those encounters never occurred. It led Keith to think that they may have been dreams after all, that Lance never gave him those sympathetic looks, those comforting words. Maybe it was for Keith's own good. But he digressed.   
Keith noticed the way that Lance would always put others before himself; Lance was the most selfless person Keith'd ever met. And Keith just couldn't understand why or how someone could be this way. Keith had always thought solely about other people and how his actions would affect them, but that was only because he didn't want to lose these people who happened to wander into his life.   
Lance seemed to be selfless unconditionally and unconsciously. He would do things that seemed small to him but meant the world to others, and he always knew exactly what to say.

Time passed, and Keith's crush for the blue paladin grew. It was like a vine that wrapped its tendrils around his still-beating heart, constricting whenever he came face to face with the culprit. So, in Keith's perspective, avoidance was the easiest solution.

And avoid the source of the problem Keith did, and it worked for a while. Lance stopped coming to watch him train. Lance stopped talking to him in general. In a sense, that's what Keith wanted- complete and utter aversion to his problem. It was... bearable. That is until he found himself sitting alone with said source, looking down at his twiddling thumbs. He tried to steal a couple glances at Lance, tried to maybe strike up a conversation, but Lance wouldn't even meet Keith's eye.   
Keith raised an eyebrow in concern. Had he noticed? Had Lance noticed that Keith was pushing him away? And if so, how? He treated the blue paladin normally in usual situations, like fighting and the like, so how in the world would Lance notice if Keith put distance between them? Is that why Lance avoided eye contact entirely? Avoiding it like Keith avoided Lance- discreetly? Keith frowned and looked down at his fingers.

There was a sickening tension throughout the room that made Keith uneasy and regretful. He wanted so badly to speak with Lance, but he knew that it would just fuel the fire. He kept his gaze down shamefully, painfully aware of Lance's subtle gazes burning holes in his skull. He closed his eyes. He needed to fix this... but how?  
Suddenly, the alarm system sprung to life and the lights, formerly permeating the castle with a soft blue, now invaded it with a red so harsh it was comparable to Keith's lion. Red Alert.   
They met each other's eyes finally, knowingly, and rushed to their respective lions. 'God,' Keith thought. 'This fight couldn't have come at a better time.'

A forty-five troop Galra attack, all packed onto one huge ship, challenging them to an attack. They fought. God, they fought as hard as they damn well could. They were almost screwed, and they almost lost teammates. Almost. It was when they had taken out at least half of the Galra's troops that it happened. When Lance shot two Galra and was shouting to Pidge; he didn't see the sniper in the upper left-hand corner of the warehouse room. But Keith noticed. And Keith's tendril, that he'd almost forgotten had wrapped itself around his heart, squeezed the life out of it the moment that the sniper pulled the trigger.

Everything slowed. It was like Keith was in the Matrix- he could see the bullet coming straight for the back of Lance's head clearly.   
Suddenly, he understood everything. He understood why Lance took Pidge's glasses off all the time, why Lance smiled after tasting all of Hunk's meals, even though most of them weren't worth smiling for. He understood why Lance kneeled with him, bandaged him up, carried him, comforted him. He understood everything. So, so painfully clear.

He understood, and in that one, slow yet fleeting moment, his vine snapped. He jumped in front of Lance and tried to put his shield up, but failed. He cried out as the blast hit the soft, unprotected flesh of his torso. The force of the blast sent him reeling around; he stumbled for a minute, his vision blurring as he saw Lance turn to face him with confusion, the fell forward into Lance, whose arms caught him sturdily and brought him to the floor.   
There was a dull ringing in his ears. He couldn't move. He blinked his eyes open and a sharp pain hit him hard in the side. He groaned against it, hacking out a weak cough. The guy fussing over him looked up from his belly- Lance...

"Oh, o-oh my g- Keith! Y-You're awake, oh god,everything's gonna be fine! It's gonna be okay- oh, my g-god, the blood-"

"La-ance," Keith gasped out, a new wave of pain washing over him and making him see stars.

"Oh; you're okay, Keith. You're okay. We're gonna g-get you to a h-healing pod. Yeah. W-We can do th-this, Keith, d-don't worry-"

"Lance,"

"It'll be fine! You'll be fine! We'll all be just fine!"

"Lance!" Keith erupted into a coughing fit and Lance panicked, holding him to his chest. Keith coughed up some blood, to which Lance yelped and gathered him tighter in his arms. Keith looked at him, though, and the blue paladin froze, tears falling from his eyes and hitting Keith's cheek, sliding down and hitting the ground with an unheard plop.  
Keith looked up at the man holding him- Lance was no longer a boy, by Keith's standards -Lance, although aged, was just as beautiful as the day Keith had met him. Then, though, their biggest problems were getting good grades in physics and passing the flight sims without crashing, not saving the universe from some evil furries. 

Keith smiled weakly and reached a wavering arm out. Lance froze as Keith's chilled fingers brushed across his cheek, smearing dirt and blood on his face. The injured boy caressed Lance's cheek; the expression he adopted was a new one- not spiteful or angry or unfeeling. Lance saw love in that expression, and it made him feel even worse than ever. 

He was shaken out of his revere by Keith, taking a rattling breath, as if about to speak. A new round of tears made it to his eyes as Keith opened his mouth. "Don't cry," The injured boy whispered. "I never know what to do with myself when you cry."  
Keith smiled before allowing his eyes to flutter shut. His hand fell from Lance's face and hit the ground with a metallic bang. He could faintly hear Lance's cries, his pleads for him to wake up. Keith could faintly feel himself being picked up and the person under him running. He could faintly feel himself being pushed into something, and the could hear it hissing shut. Then, everything you were once aware of abruptly stopped.

There was darkness, at least for a while. Nothing.  
But then, like a flower in cement, something bloomed.

Keith gasped for air as he stumbled out of the healing pod. His legs felt like Jell-O. He was cold. He seemed to be alone, as was to be expected, Keith had been in healing pods before; he had come out of healing pods before- emerging with a gasp, falling to the floor and curling up there until he had the strength to get up and feel his way to his room- and the experience was always the same. So he braced himself to hit the floor. He was, and was going to be, in every aspect, alone.

Until suddenly, he wasn't.   
He was caught by an unseen force, something so strong that it knocked the wind out of him. the two of them fell to the floor. The person who caught him began to sob into his shoulder, and Keith realized that the unseen force was, in fact, Lance. Lance... had saved him?

"Lance... are... are you okay?" Keith croaked, his voice rough from disuse. He wondered for a moment how long he'd been in the pod, then decided to ask later, seeing as Lance was a sobbing mess.

Lance pulled away, his beautiful blue eyes widening incredulously. "Am I okay? Am I okay? I'm not the one taking bullets and falling out of healing pods, Keith! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Keith shakily pushed himself off Lance and stood. Lance did the same, standing adjacent to him, and the two looked at each other warily.   
"I was trying to save you," Keith said, almost scoffing. "It's part of being a good team member. Now, answer my question please. Are you okay? Were you hurt at all?"

"I would've been fine! My armor has that new automatic barrier thing that Pidge installed into all of our suits- well, except for yours and Shiro's, but still! Are you suicidal or something? You could've been killed!"

"And you could've been hurt! Barrier or not."

"But still- you hurled your dumb ass in front of a bullet for me, Keith. Without even a second thought. That's just stupid, even for you. 'Taking one for the team' is one thing, Keith, but dying? Come on," Lance droned. He stopped for a moment, thinking, then cracked a small grin. "That's got to be either the most idiotic or the most romantic thing someone's ever done for me." Keith could tell that Lance was trying to lighten the mood, but Lance's smile, like he was still a bit nervous about the entire situation, diffused his attempt. He rubbed his eyes and frowned once more.   
"You're not expendable, Keith. I hope you know that."

And suddenly Keith saw Lance for what he was- what he really was. Even now, when the worrying for Keith was all said and done with, Lance never once put himself first. Lance was kind. So very, very kind. And if it were on his account, this whole ordeal would have happened. Lance would've jumped in front of a bullet for any one of them, no questions asked, barrier or no. Then again- Keith would've jumped in front of a bullet for Lance whether it be for training purposes or during a fight with Zarkon.

Keith looked down. 

Lance suddenly became concerned, walking over to Keith and gently putting his hand on the red paladin's shoulder. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Are you tired? Do you need something to eat? I can take you back to your room if you wa-"

"What are you doing to me?" Keith cried. He took a step back, swaying on his feet, then looked back at Lance, who stared back, shell-shocked at Keith's sudden display of emotion. Keith didn't know if it was post-trauma adrenaline or if it was just fatigue and hunger from the pod catching up to him, but his filter was completely disappearing.   
"You're the most idiotic, most annoying, most irrational human being I've ever met," Keith began, furrowing his brows in an indescribable type of fury. "But you're also so very kind, and sweet, and funny, and beautiful beyond compare. I love you- ya know that? I love you so much; you're worth more than me, infinitesimally so. You have family and people that care about you, Lance. You can't die. You say I'm not expendable, but other than Shiro, who would mourn my death? Nobody. And who would mourn yours? Literally everyone. I would be absolutely crushed if you died, Lance. And that scares me, because that makes you another person for me to lose. I love you so, so much, Lance, and if I ever got the chance, I would sacrifice myself again and again for eternity so that I could save you once."

Lance blinked, then blinked again. The room was silent. Lance's blue eyes and the thick tension permeated the room like a soft blue glow, and Keith's insides became jumbled and wrong-feeling. He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. He'd done something wrong, hadn't he?

"I-I'm sorry, Lance. I... I really am. I'm just gonna go now." Keith stepped back again shakily and walked away semi-quickly. Lance still sat on the floor, frozen. He looked up.   
"Do you really think that, Keith?" Keith stopped and turned around at Lance's soft-spoken question. Lance's face was so contorted and so many different emotions that it made Keith want to cry. And he couldn't stop himself from doing so when the tears started falling from his eyes,

He coughed out a sob then sank to the floor across from the blue paladin, crying into his hands. Lance stayed.

"I was happy to die, Lance! I wanted to die for something I knew was worth dying for! You were worth dying for! " He looked up at Lance, whose hands were worrying at the hems of his jacket. Keith always did like that jacket. "I wanted to die honorably, for someone I loved. I wanted to die for you, Lance."

Lance opened his mouth just a bit, as if he wanted to respond, but seemed to decide against it, instead standing and walking over to where Keith was slumped over his knees. He sat next to Keith and gently pulled the other's head onto his shoulder, giving him silent solace and reminding Keith of the times Lance had tended to his wounds. Lance ran a hand through Keith's now longer hair and sighed. Keith sniffed and closed his eyes tiredly. It had been taxing on him- getting out of the healing pod exhausted already, then arguing, then crying. He hated crying.

Lance shifted so that Keith's head fell onto his lap. He toyed with clumps of tangled hair, gently pulling out the knots and in the process calming Keith even further. Keith opened his eyes and looked up at Lance drowsily.  
"Why do you do this?"

"Do what?" Lance prompted softly. 

"I dunno," Keith averted his gaze, then looked back. "Care?"

"Because I can't help but care for you."

"Mm."

It wasn't long before Lance heard Keith's breathing even out. Lance smiled.

While Keith's love for Lance was like a vine- twisting around and constricting the heart with thorns poking holes in his soft flesh, eventually blooming into a rose- Lance's love for Keith was like a wave.

A thunderous, powerful, ever-consuming monster, but also calm and lazy, quietly brushing seashells and sand onto the beach and back.   
And as Lance gazed at Keith, sleeping in his lap after that horrific incident, he felt both that thunder and that quiet, clashing within him all at once. Lance loved it. He loved Keith.

And, like a flower in bloom, Keith loved Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have an MRI today (Monday) and I'm extremely claustrophobic so I might post a vent about claustrophobia panic attacks tomorrow lmao that's just how I roll  
> Plus sorry if this chapter is kinda short I'm stressed
> 
> 1.5k ew who's reading this whoever is stop immediately you don't wanna be here it's self-indulgence not a compelling story
> 
> (Jk I love you guys thank you 💕💕)


	19. The Memory Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith mourns Lance's death and, in turn, finds solace.

'"Hey, Keith, can I sing something for you?" Keith looked over to see Lance already taking out his ukelele, and sighed fondly.

"You know that I'll always say yes, so why do you ask?" Keith murmured, leaning over to give his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. Lance laughed, bringing a smile to Keith's face. "What are you gonna play?" 

"You'll see," Lance responded, just as softly, looking Keith in the eye with those sparkling blue eyes of his. Just like the sea.'

Keith blinked open his eyes and drew a breath. The dream lingered in his mind, and he knew that he was going to remember it forever, unfortunately. He sighed shakily and put his hands to his face, recalling the memory easily. It brought salty tears to his eyes; just like the sea.   
He swung his legs over the bed and left the room, walking down the hallway quickly and walking toward what the others called the memory room. Shiro would kill him if he found out that the teen was up this late, but Keith didn't care. He needed some fresh air or the stuffy sadness in his room would kill him even faster.  
The air was in the castle, and he welcomed the cold nipping at his skin. He walked a little faster and jogged down the stairs into the darkened room, turning on the light and taking the flash drive thing out of his pocket. He stuck it into the wall and the beach spread out on the floor, recognizing where he and Lance would sit immediately. He sat down and leaned back onto the damp sand, looking up at those same stars that he and Lance would watch. A blue light caught his eye and he sat up. There he was. Keith breathed out slowly. 

'Lance began to strum something, lazy and slow. Keith's grin softened into a loving smile at the familiar and he looked back out onto the sea wistfully.

"Hold me close and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast, this is La Vie en Rose..." Lance sang, his beautiful singing voice practically caressing Keith's eardrums.   
"When you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see La Vie en Rose," 

"When you press me to your heart," Keith sang along with Lance, his voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the waves in front of them.. The other teen smiled and played a little louder. "I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom."  
"When you speak, angels sing from above, and everyday words turn into-"

"Love songs..." Keith murmured, touching his fingers to his lips. He sighed and looked to the stars. Lance. God, Lance, why'd you have to go? What did Keith do to deserve this? 

"Just give your heart and soul to me," Lance sang, his eyes trained on the sea while Keith's own were closed, relishing the melody and Lance's voice. "And life will always be-"

"La vie en rose, huh?" Keith mumbled. He closed his eyes upon feeling that all-too-familiar pressure behind them and hummed the song once more, tumbling the memory over in his mind. "Why'd you leave, Lance?" He said, his voice watery and small. "Why'd you have to go?"

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want to," Lance's voice rang through his ears and he looked up, seeing the blue light version of his boyfriend kneeling in front of him. "I'm so sorry." Keith choked out a sob and curled in on himself.

"Lance, I-"

"Shh. Let me-- Let me just hold you, please?" Lance's own voice was watery and Keith slowly let this holographic version of Lance coax his arms from his face. He let the version wipe his tears away. Let this version wrap his hands around the red paladin, holding him close. "I'm so sorry, Keith. I loved you so much."

"Lance," Keith sobbed. This happened every time. Every fucking time. He would go down here randomly and put that flash drive in, bringing Lance back for this short amount of time, even when he saw how much pain it put the former blue paladin in. 

"Oh no, mi Amor, no, cariño, don't cry..." Keith sobbed again at Lance's too familiar use of Spanish. "Oh, baby, you deserve so much better than this..."

"I miss you," Keith choked out, putting his forehead against Lance's. "I miss you so much." 

"I know, cariño, but that's just how these things work," Lance said, a melancholy smile spreading across his face. "When we took this job, we knew we had to live with the consequences."

"But I took that bullet! Why couldn't you have let me die?" Keith cried. Lance blanched and grimaced. "I would've died for you, Lance! Why'd you have to go and protect me like that? You could be smiling with Allura, and Shiro, and Pidge and Hunk, and I would've been a distant memory, but of course, you couldn't have let me die!"

"Baby, you know I couldn't do that..." Lance murmured. "I could never be happy without you..."

"And I can barely live without you, Lance!" Keith exclaimed, more tears spilling from his eyes. "I've lost fucking everyone, and just when I thought I'd have a constant, you fucking left too! I would've been happy dying, Lance! I just-- I just- I- I'd rather be dead right now!"

"Oh, Keith," Lance cooed softly, taking Keith's hands in his. "Mi pequeño león... I love you more than you could ever know. And if I let you die back there, I don't think I could be alive like you are right now. Live. Go back to Earth without me. Find someone else. Give them all the left-over love that you couldn't give me. Be happy. Say hi to my familia for me. And just know," Lance caressed Keith's cheek, wiping more tears from the pale skin. "I'll always be right here if you need to talk."

The room flickered off and Keith was left in the dark, gasping out a fractured wail when Lance's fingers left his own. He crumpled under the weight of his own emotions and curled into himself, ugly sobs tearing from his throat. 

"Keith?" 

Keith choked out another cry and turned around, seeing Hunk behind him, wearing his pajamas and looking like he just came out of bed. "Buddy, are you alright?" Hunk asked, taking a couple tentative steps toward the red paladin, who was hunched over on the ground. He stopped when Keith screwed his eyes shut and turned away.   
Hunk looked the flash drive still stuck in the wall and frowned, looking back at Keith. Mourning. Keith was mourning. And Hunk had never seen this before. Even after Lance's death, Keith kept his stoic appearance, despite the trauma of losing what Lance had once described to Hunk as 'The most loveliest love to ever love'. He'd been training harder, eat and sleeping less, and being overall very distant, but that was to be expected. They'd all been grieving the loss of Lance, but Hunk had assumed that everyone's tears were shed and they were trying to work through it. But seeing Keith here, on the floor, made him think otherwise. 

"Keith, you're alright," Hunk said, walking over and kneeling in front of Keith, who hugged his arms and sobbed again. No matter how hard he tried, the other teen just couldn't stop his tears. This was... concerning. "Listen to me, Keith, you're alright..."

"L-Lance," he choked, curling in on himself a little more. "L-- He's gone, Hunk-- he's- I-I-"

"Shh, I know," Hunk said softly, prying Keith's hands away from his arms before he could dig his nails deep enough to do any real damage. Keith sobbed again, looking down and letting his tears fall onto the cold metal ground.

"I-I ca-an't do th-this any- anymore, H-Hunk," Keith whimpered. "I-I-I c-can't take it."

"Take what?" Hunk prodded gently. He really didn't know much about Keith- that was more Lance's expertise. 

"Everyone either leaves or dies, and I can't take it anymore!" He cried the first non-stuttered sentence that the boy had spoken to Hunk that night. Hunk furrowed his brows and frowned empathetically, pulling Keith into his arms and letting the red paladin cry on his shoulder. 

"You're alright, Keith," Hunk repeated, more reassuring himself than Keith. "You're alright now."

Keith heaved out another sob and buried his face in Hunk's soft sleep shirt, wrapping his arms around the yellow paladin and bunching up the fabric in his grip. "It hurts-- why d-does this hurt so bad?" Keith whined, and Hunk pursed his lips, looking at the platform from which Lance's hologram was supposed to originate. 

"Because that's what loss is, Keith," Hunk said, holding him tighter. "Losing someone you love is like losing a body part. Nothing is ever the same without them, but you can work from the stump."

"But Lance was everything to me!" Keith confessed something that he'd been too scared to before. Hunk sighed.   
"Lance was... a lot of things, buddy. But he died so you could live, and what you're doing right now isn't living. I heard him say it, and Lance will always say it best- move on, find someone, and give them all your left-over love and then some."

Keith sobbed and bit his lip. "This is my fault; I'm so sorry, Hunk."

Hunk knew that feeling. Lance, that self-sacrificial little fuck, making his own boyfriend feel like whatever happened was his fault when it wasn't. "At the risk of sounding insensitive, whatever Lance did was his own choice. You were unconscious, so you couldn't have any say in the matter."

"I-I just want him back," Keith whispered. "I need him..."

"I know. We all do."

Keith pushed Hunk away and curled in on himself again. "I never meant for this to happen."

"Nobody did."

"I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know."

There was a silence between them, then Keith broke down again and Hunk pulled him into another embrace. 

They stayed like that for what felt like hours but was in reality around thirty minutes. They parted after a while, Keith still sniffling and distraught and Hunk, dejected and close to tears himself. He shook himself out of it and looked at Keith, giving him the most genuine smile he could muster.  
"C'mon," Hunk said, grabbing Keith's attention. "Lemme make you some food to feel better. You look skeleton-esque, man."

Keith forced a smile at Hunk's chide and stood, swaying a little bit. Hunk almost had to reach a hand out to catch the younger paladin, but Keith put up a hand in declination and that was the end of it. He followed the yellow paladin to the kitchen and sat down at the table as Hunk made him some tea and toasted some bread. After a little bit of convincing, they went to the rec room and Hunk popped a movie into the disk player, silently hoping that this would help Keith chill a little bit and maybe fall asleep.  
Keith drank the tea and almost immediately relaxed into the couch and Hunk noticed the red still rimming his eyes, almost as bright as his lion. He wondered if Keith had been crying before or if this was a new development, but decided not to ask. He put an old Altean film into the player and it opened with very 1960's drama type music. Keith put his half-finished tea on the table in front of him and leaned back, watching the movie with tired eyes. Hunk watched him closely, worried. 

Hunk eventually got somewhat engrossed in the movie, not really understanding what the aliens were saying but getting the general plot- that is, until he felt a head lean onto his shoulder. He turned his own head, seeing Keith slumping against him. God, this boy was exhausted. Hunk wondered how many sleepless nights Keith'd had.   
He raised his arm and pulled Keith into his side, where he cuddled a little closer and leaned a little farther in. 

The yellow paladin turned the volume down on the movie and sighed, holding Keith a little closer.   
"I'm so sorry, Keith," He mumbled, brushing the hair out of Keith's face. "I'm so sorry."


	20. my skin is static; touch me gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith is touch-starved, but fears touch nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this is a little weird for me to be doing, but I just thought I'd let you know what's going to go down within the next couple of months. If you didn't know already, my name's Lee, but most people just call me LA.   
> So in the last three months, I've dislocated my shoulder... 13 times? I did it today too, lmao. Here's the dealio. I'm getting surgery on February 7th- next week. I will be on somewhat of a hiatus for around a month and a half to three months as I recover, seeing as I will be in a sling. If I do post, it will probably be short and sweet. 
> 
> I can't believe how many people have read this. It's really nice to see your comments, too. I love reading them and will respond to each and everyone, regardless of whether or not I'm in a sling. So thanks, guys. It really does make me feel good to see your thoughts on my pieces.   
> By the way, you guys can come yell at me on wattpad: @Murmurz or on Instagram: @styg_ii or even on tumblr or deviantart: styg-ii or Stygii  
> I really appreciate everything, and thanks for listening to some kid yell aimlessly into the void in the late hours of the night. Thank you.

When Lance first met Keith in the Garrison, he noticed how he would sit alone. How the guy would analyze everyone else, regardless of who they were. How he would stare you down, asking for a fight, but would be too nonchalant about starting it to take it seriously. He still won. When Keith got into the blue lion, he noticed how he stayed near Shiro mainly, but avoided all physical contact. He would whisper some input to Shiro, who would nod, but nothing more. And when they were in the castle, Keith wouldn't high-five anyone or do hand-to-hand combat. It was like he was trying not to get burnt when he was around other people, which would be absurd given he's the element of fire. When the two decided to go to the pool and got stuck in the elevator, Keith begrudgingly agreed to support each Lance when they were climbing up the shaft, but Lance realized how uncomfortable Keith was and let him go through the vent first. It was... odd, to say the least. He'd never met someone who was so averted to physical contact before, and it was an unexpected first for him. His first instinct was to automatically give little, casual touches to the people he was friends or acquainted with, so being around someone who avoided it at all costs was a pretty bad mix.  
Especially when that person was in pain, mentally or physically. And Keith seemed to be in pain all the time. Furrowed brows, empty promises to the rest of the team to stop being so reckless. Yes, these promises were empty, seeing as almost every major mission, everyone else sustained and got treated for minor injuries while Keith hid his, major or minor until he passed out either in his room or in the training hall or in Red. Keith was stubborn as a mule, and Lance realized early on that it was fruitless to argue with the younger paladin. He would just make a point then leave the rest to Shiro to diffuse. Speaking of Shiro, Lance saw that Keith would only ever let their leader touch him, and even then, they were light touches- brotherly. Like a hand on his shoulder to reassure him or a ruffle of his hair when he was thinking too hard, or even during training, when Keith only did hand-to-hand or close range combat with Shiro. But Lance learned to live with the concern, and eventually ignored it altogether. Keith wouldn't ever change- he was stubborn, as said earlier. 

That's why when Lance walked in on Keith in the kitchen in the late hours of the night, quietly crying in the dark, he didn't know what to do or even understand the situation. Keith didn't seem to realize that Lance was there at first, who stood in the doorway for god knows how long, listening to Keith's sniffles and watching his back as his shoulders shook with unreleased sobs. The red paladin wiped his tears silently, dead-set on keeping himself from making any noise. It pained Lance so badly to hear someone suffering alone like that- he wanted to help, but he didn't know how. But then again, Keith really take kindly to someone listening in on his moment? Maybe Keith was crying like this because he didn't think he could elsewhere. Maybe he thought that this was his best bet at getting an hour or two alone to relax. But Keith didn't relax. So why? Had he come in for food? Maybe- Keith hadn't been eating much lately, lately being when Shiro returned from Galra imprisonment.  
Maybe it had to do with that. Keith had gotten pretty distant ever since then, but it really wasn't anything noteworthy, Lance thought. It was slight- Keith not eating with the rest of the team, training more, standing a little farther away from Shiro than normal, but Lance had just put it up to Keith getting back in the swing of things after being without his brother for so long. It took Keith a little while to recuperate from things like that, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, that much was obvious even to the blue paladin. 

He sighed quietly and made his way toward Keith, still not raising any suspicion. Wow, Keith really had to be off for his senses to be so dulled. Lance reached a hand out and hesitated, going over his options. One of two things- he touches Keith and risks being slaughtered, or he talks to Keith and risks being slaughtered. Same outcome. He bit his lip. Why not both?  
He gently put his hand on Keith's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, are you alright?" He said softly. Keith immediately relaxed at the touch, but upon realizing that he was being touched, he flinched away and looked away from Lance. He wiped his tears, hoping that the blue paladin wouldn't notice- it's not like anyone ever did. The bags under his eyes hid them quite well anyway. But Lance did notice. And he felt Keith melt under his hand- Keith was touch-starved, Lance realized. And yet, he still shirked away from Lance's grasp. 

He looked up at Lance with murder in his eyes, but deep behind that, Lance saw... fear? Keith was scared. "What the fuck, Lance?" He hissed, his glare threatening a beating on Lance, but Lance realized that Keith wouldn't do anything violent that night. The red rimming above those deep bags under his eyes made him seem all the less menacing, so contrary to how his steely gaze normally looked. Tonight, it was all teary and sad. So uncharacteristic of him.  
Even still, Lance got kind of pissed at Keith's accusatory tone. He huffed.  
"I got up to get some water and-"

"And what?" Keith seethed. Lance grit his teeth.

"And I saw you here," He said. His eyes softened and he bit his lip in worry. "You... You were crying, Keith. I've never seen you cry before," Lance confesses, folding his arms across his chest. Keith's own mask of anger fell slowly and he looked down, furrowing his brows. Another tear seemed to fall and he wiped it with the heel of his hand. His head pounded in his skull, reminding him of his exhaustion, malnourishment, and overall icky feeling. 

"It's nothing, Lance. I'm fine," He muttered, seemingly losing all of that former spark. "Just... get your water and go back to bed."

Lance pursed his lips. He couldn't do that- not now, anyway. It just wasn't in his nature to leave someone like this. "Keith, you know I can't do that," He said, his voice soft and understanding. Keith closed his eyes and sighed.  
"I know," He said, barely audible. Lance thought for a moment on what to do. Then, he remembered, giving Keith melancholy smile, even though the latter's head was turned.

"I have an idea- c'mon. There's something I want to show you." He offered his hand and Keith looked at it longingly for a second before standing on his own, swaying slightly. Lance almost had to steady him, but Keith righted himself and assured Lance with a look that he was fine. 

He followed behind the blue paladin closely, watching his steps. One, two, three. He mimicked them. One. Two. Three. It made him drowsy, in a way. But then again, just about anything made him drowsy these days. But he couldn't sleep with this bad feeling about Shiro still stuck in his chest. He'd been getting pretty bad nightmares about it lately, too. So he'd just resolved not to sleep. Vigilance is the best option, he guessed. It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out all the time, right?   
Right, until he was sitting at the table and fell asleep, waking up sweating and shaking with remnants of a nightmare burnt into his conscience. Upon realizing that he was alone (which somehow made everything worse) he let the tears fall for the first time, not realizing that he'd gained an audience.   
Lance turned into a room, so Keith turned too. Upon looking around he realized that this was... the observatory? Keith had been here. What did Lance want to show him?   
Instead of going to the control panel first as everyone else seemed to, Lance made a beeline for one of the couches that sat against the window. Keith watched cautiously as Lance dropped to his knees and dug around under the couch, finally finding what he was looking for and standing back up.   
It was a small box with some alien language written over the top. "The alien gave it to me as a 'free sample', and I never really knew what to do with it until now," Lance said. "Go on, open it. I've got no use for it anyways."

Keith looked at Lance warily but opened the box anyway, seeing a small, blue, luminescent crystal sitting on a red pillow. His eyes widened and he picked it up before Lance could stop him. "No, wait," Lance exclaimed. Keith's knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground. He dropped the crystal and groaned, holding his head.   
"What the fuck even was that thing?" He asked, trying to ward off an impending dizzy spell. His head pounded even worse now and he ground his teeth.

Lance sighed, kneeling in front of Keith and picking up the crystal with his jacket, putting it back into the box. "It's a crystal that's supposed to calm you, but on humans, it just makes you more tired. Normally," Lance mused, raising his eyebrows at Keith knowingly. "It would just quiet you down and get you to sleep faster if you're human, but if you're over-tired and human, it makes you super loopy for a little while when you touch it. I didn't want you to pick it up- just being around it makes you tired."

"And how do you know this?" Keith asked again, his voice muttering and somewhat slurred. Lance raised his eyebrows. It'd worked, huh?

"I tried it on Pidge once," Lance responded with a slight smile. "Do you need help standing?"

"'m fine," Keith mumbled, stumbling to his feet. This time when he swayed, instead of refusing help like before, he accidentally leaned into Lance, to which he yelped in fear and tried to push off of the blue paladin, failing miserably and ending up sliding down the wall. "Shit, man, what'd you give me? A fuckin' roofie?" He asked shakily.

Lance chuckled despite his wariness surrounding Keith's fear of him. "Like you know what it's like to be roofied."

Keith scoffed. "You'd..." He shook himself to be more awake. "You'd be surprised." And Keith was right- the crystal worked like a charm. Lance kneeled again and offered his hand. Keith looked at it nervously, like he didn't trust himself both to take the hand or to leave it and try to stand on his own. He picked the former and tentatively grabbed Lance's hand, allowing the other paladin to help him to his feet. Lance noticed how shaky Keith's hand felt in his own, and just pocketed that information.

"There we go," Lance said absentmindedly. Keith grimaced. He felt like a charity case. He looked down in embarrassment, but that didn't last long, as Lance sat him onto the couch/bench resolutely. "You're going to tell me what's wrong and why you were crying, and then I'm forcing you to sleep."

"As if."

Lance scoffed slightly. "Fine. That last part was a stretch," he said begrudgingly. "But you still have to tell me what's wrong. I'm your teammate, Keith. I need to be able to communicate with you openly."

"Wise words coming from the guy who proclaimed us 'rivals' all those years ago," Keith grinned slightly. The crystal was getting to him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me, hotshot."

Keith sobered after a moment and looked down. Was he really about to spill his biggest secrets to some dumb boy who he might have a crush on? Apparently, because he sighed and looked up.   
"I've been having some really bad nightmares since Shiro came back," Keith admitted. "I've gotten this weird vibe from him, too. Like he's unresponsive and uncaring, or something. And I'm more concerned than I'd like to admit."

"But you just admitted it," Lance said after a beat of silence. 

"Drugs are wild."

"True." So Lance was right initially- there was something up with Shiro, thereby causing distance with Keith. It was inevitable. He sighed and crossed his arms, sitting down next to Keith. "But you're not wrong. Shiro has been a little off lately."

"Mhmm."

There was another spell of silence, but it wasn't really tense or anything. It was just... silence if you could imagine that. 

Lance took a glance at Keith out of the corner of his eye and furrowed his brows. Keith was staring off into space, looking completely dead on his feet. Lance sighed. He knew what he could do to help, but didn't know if Keith would be okay with him helping. He could try... but this moment was fragile. Any sort of strain could shatter the feeling. And Lance needed that serenity; Keith needed it too. The kid was exhausted to say the least.   
"Keith," Lance said, getting the other teen's attention. Keith's eyes were dull and grey instead of their normal shiny slate, making Lance a little more nervous. What if Keith didn't want to talk about it? Lance had dealt with these types of situations before, but Keith was... different in a way. He could try anyway, though. Hope for the best. "Were you abused?"

Keith's eyes widened a bit and he looked away, clasping his hands and biting his lip. "I-- I... uh... I dunno?" He tried, cringing at his awkward attempt to diffuse Lance's question. 

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Lance murmured, looking at Keith with a melancholy smile. Keith looked back to Lance but didn't meet the other's gaze.

"I... I just wasn't treated very well. I'm sure it was-- it was normal. Sure, my foster parents hit me a lot. But I deserved it for the shit I pulled," He said, probably more reassuring himself than Lance, who just sighed.

"Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. There's a difference between discipline and abuse, and your mannerisms scream that you didn't have much if any, positive experience with touch."

Keith raised his eyebrow, a small, amused smile adorning his face. "How do you know all this?" He asked quietly, seemingly trying to get the conversation off of him and back onto Lance. 

"I've had friends like you before," he said. What he neglected to say, though, is that Keith's behavior was the worst case he'd ever seen. Flinching when you got too close, standing a couple feet away as to not risk any sort of touch. "But you're also pretty touch-starved, Keith."

"Touch-starved? What do you mean?" Keith asked, genuinely curious. Really? He didn't even know what that meant? Clueless.

Lance huffed in thought, thinking about how he should explain it. Then, he got an idea that might just kill two birds with one stone. "It may be easier just to show you," Lance said. "C'mere."

Keith awkwardly let Lance guide his head into his lap on the basis of demonstration and waited. "Tell me if any of this feels uncomfortable in any way, and we'll stop, alright?" Lance said softly. Keith swallowed hard- he'd never been given the option before. He suddenly felt warm fingers on his scalp and he flinched, bracing himself to be pulled up by his hair, but that pain never came. A hand rested on his head, fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair. It felt... he felt good about it. Better than he had in a while, anyway. He sighed as Lance began to card his fingers through his hair. It was calming, and Keith found himself beginning to drift off. Maybe it was his deprivation of sleep not letting him think straight or maybe it was just Lance, playing with his hair and giving him some real human contact, but he was so tired. So tired in fact, that he couldn't help but shut his eyes a little bit before he realized what he was doing and opened them. 

"See? I told you," Lance whispered as Keith practically melted under his fingertips. Keith hummed in response, probably not paying much attention, as his eyes fluttered shut and opened again- shut and open- shut and open. "You can sleep now, y'know," Lance started, his voice barely above a murmur. "You're safe. I'm right here. Relax."  
Another hum from Keith, then the remaining tension in Keith's body washed away, leaving him limp and pliant in Lance's lap, breathing deep and even.

\---

Keith gasped, jolting upright in bed. His heart hammered in his chest and his breaths came out in heavy, labored pants. A headache stabbed his brain and he groaned- this was, what, the sixth time in a row. He didn't think he could take much longer. These nightmares were giving him absolute shit, and he felt weaker with each one. And he hated feeling weak. Pain jarred his skull and he winced, putting a hand to his head. Whatever the fucking time was, it was going to be a bad fucking day.   
He almost cried out in pain when knuckles rapped loudly on his door, but bit his lip and ground his teeth against the urge.   
"What?" He muttered, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes, trying to dull his senses just a little bit. He needed some relief right now.  
"Keith? It's Lance. You... it sounded pretty rough tonight, buddy."

Oh. Lance. Keith sighed. "Door's open," He mumbled hoarsely. It'd been about a week since Lance found him that first time, and ever since, Lance had been coming into his room when he awoke with a start, helping him fall back into a hopefully dreamless sleep. He wondered how Lance did it- just made him fall asleep like that. He felt safer around the blue paladin than he'd ever around that weird version of Shiro. He sighed. This was... interesting, he guessed. 

He kept his voice low and what he said to a minimum- it hurt to speak. His throat was scratchy and dry, but he knew he wasn't getting sick. He'd probably been crying if the wetness that stained his pillow was anything to go by. He sucked in a breath when another stab of pain shot through him and he whined softly, putting his head in his hands to keep it together, seeing as it felt like his skull was spitting. Lance made his way in quietly and walked over, kneeling in front of the bed where Keith sat.

"Are you alright, man?" Lance murmured, not really expecting to get an answer. He didn't- he already knew that Keith wasn't alright at that time. "Is that migraine back again?"

Keith clenched his jaw and nodded slowly. Lance tutted sympathetically and stood, walking over to the bathroom. Keith closed his eyes against the pain in his head as he heard the sink turn on and something being filled up. He looked up as Lance walked back with a glass of water in hand. Lance offered it and Keith gratefully took it with shaking hands. He sipped it slowly, hoping that the last night's nausea wouldn't make a comeback, and sighed as the scratchiness in his throat was soothed slightly. Lance took it back when Keith was done and placed it on the nightstand to be disposed of later.   
Lance sat properly on the bed, propping Keith's pillow up against the wall and leaning back on it. Keith crawled tentatively over and lay his head on Lance's chest, draping an arm across the blue paladin's abdomen and closing his eyes. Lance reached his hands up and toyed with Keith's hair, knowing exactly what he needed. The minute Lance touched his scalp, Keith sighed contentedly. They laid there a while, Lance running his hands through Keith's hair and Keith feeling calmer than he had in months. Keith's sharp pain ebbed into a bearable, dull ache as Lance twisted his curls through his fingers.   
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Lance asked softly. Keith, already mostly asleep, hummed and buried his head further into Lance's soft pajama sweater. 

"I turned... I turned full galra again," Keith murmured. "Shiro killed me again."

"Oh. Okay."  
It wasn't.

For the last three nights, Keith has had bad nightmares. Like, nightmares from hell. Nightmares where his brother tries (and mostly succeeds) to kill him. Nightmares where he kills his brother. Kills Hunk, kills Pidge, kills Allura, Coran.  
Ones where he kills Lance.   
Nightmares that made him whimper and cry like a child as he slept. Ones that kept Lance awake as he listened to Keith plea for his life, then those please abruptly ceasing as Keith awakes with a gasp. Words slurred Keith's mouth in the depths of the night that disturbed Lance deeply- "I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry," the red paladin would say. Or "'Kashi, please, no." Or "'m so sorry, 'Kashi/Pidge/Hunk/Allura/Coran."

"'m so sorry, Lance."

The thing that probably screwed Lance up the most was when Keith would say,   
"Just kill me already."   
Four little words, impacting Lance so harshly that he felt a couple tears well up in his eyes when he heard it. It implied that Keith had been hurt so badly by the people he loved that he wanted to just die. How fucked up was that? And Keith just endured it and told Lance what had happened like he was talking about his weekend plans- so casually and level-headedly. Even with those tear-tracks on his cheeks and his winces in pain from his migraine, he kept his voice monotone and his expression relatively void of emotion. 

This poor kid.   
Lance sighed and looked down at Keith, who had his eyes cracked open, staring into space. He realized that he'd stopped playing with Keith's hair as he had gotten caught up in his own thoughts, and promptly resumed his actions. Keith visibly relaxed once more, his eyes fluttering shut as Lance gently combed his fingers through his thick tangles.   
Touch starvation's a monster of a thing to deal with. Keith told him what kind of things he'd endured, but he always made them out to be a smaller deal than it was. Keith got three black eyes in a month? It was because his A dropped. Got slammed into the wall? He forgot to do his chores. Wasn't fed for days on end? His little spot in the kids' room wasn't clean enough. No matter what, everything that happened was always Keith's fault. He wouldn't shift the blame or victimize himself even when he was the victim to a bad situation, and he wasn't trying to make himself look better, he was just trying to give the facts with an unbiased opinion. Lance wondered, though, since this abuse and pain was all he ever really knew if Keith really had an opinion. If he really did think that what had been put onto him was normal- if he thought it was alright to be in constant fear that someone's going to hit you or hurt you or leave without explanation. He sighed. 

He traced Keith's porcelain features and smiled when the drowsy teen involuntarily moved into the touch. Keith was starved to hell and back. 

Keith, on the other hand, had never had this type of experience before. At first, he didn't know whether to like it or hate it. The itch under his skin that he'd spent so long trying to dispel was finally sated and he just felt overall happier on the day-to-day when he'd slept with Lance the night before. But that's also where he faltered- during the day, Lance would barely acknowledge him outside of their snarky banter, and when he looked into the blue paladin's eyes, he didn't see anything like he had before. The soft concern was gone, replaced with something that was akin to loathing. Before everything started with Lance, he really didn't think much of the backhanded insults thrown his way, but now he overthought everything Lance said to him, overanalyzing every word, searching for a semblance of any emotion other than hate. But he came up empty every time. He almost wished the two could go back to where they used to stand- it was simpler. Now everything's complicated and Keith's confused. One moment, Lance would be caring for him and running his hands through his hair, then the next he would be telling Keith that he's a dropout wannabe goth.   
Whatever. He sighed and gripped at Lance's shirt with an almost embarrassing lack of strength, shifting around a bit. He felt Lance's chest jerk softly with a chuckle and those hands were once again more attentive in his hair, making him hum absentmindedly.   
"G'nite, buddy," Lance whispered.

"Mm," He responded, dropping off into a restless sleep.

\--

Keith's eyes snapped open. Where was he? Everything was dark. He looked around, not able to see anything in the blackness of the room, but he did feel the warm... something next to him. He froze. What was it? His breath came in labored pants and he felt tears prick his eyes, not having the motivation to suppress them. He put his hand to his mouth to silence a sob, yelping hoarsely and scrambling to sit up when the thing next to him shifted. He pressed himself up against the cold metal of the wall and brought his knees to his chest in a protective position. Hazy, sleep-glazed blue met his own teary steel and they both suddenly realized what was happening. Lance's eyes quickly widened and he sat up.   
"Keith," He said. Keith winced at the tone, feeling his headache once again returning with a vengeance. "Keith, buddy, are you alright?" Lance seemed like he was panicking and, honestly, so was Keith. He put his head in his hands and whined, choking out another sob. 

"P-Please, make it s-stop," He mumbled. Lance seemed relieved that Keith was talking, but upon realizing what the other boy said he was worried all over again.  
"Make what stop?" Lance asked gently. 

"M-Make it st-stop, Lance, p-please- I c-can't take this a-anymore," He stuttered, sobs punctuating his words. "I'm s-so fucking tired, why can't they let me sleep for once, Lance? It's every time I close my eyes- I can't do this anymore-"

"The nightmares?" Lance cut him off, his eyes shining with concern. Keith grimaced, hiccupped and nodded, wanting nothing more than to curl up with Lance once again and fall back asleep. But he knew that wouldn't happen- he would just wake up with the same nightmares again, and Lance would ignore him the next day again, and he would just suffer alone until Lance decided that he would be a good charity case. His breath hitched in a sob and, despite his negating thoughts, he buried his face in Lance's shoulder and let himself cry.   
Lance, who really wasn't expecting an armful of Keith at that moment, was taken aback. He recovered quickly, though, and held Keith closely, running his hands in the red paladin's hair and rubbing along his back soothingly. 

Keith sobbed again and grabbed the back of Lance's shirt, bunching the material tightly in his fists. "Shh, you're alright," Lance cooed. In any other situation, Lance's tone of voice would've made Keith feel awkward- he usually used it around other people. But hearing it now, directed towards him? It just made him want to hold tighter onto Lance. So he did. "You're alright, Keith."  
His sobs died down after a while, the occasional hiccup escaping his throat as Lance kept whispering reassurances.   
"Are you okay?" Lance mumbled, knowing that of course, Keith wasn't okay. Keith sniffed and parted from Lance, feeling like complete and utter shit. 

"I'm just so tired." He whined. Had he been more coherent, he wouldn't have said that. He would've shooed Lance out with the notion that he was fine- it was just a nightmare, after all. But everything had been building up for so long that he just felt the overwhelming urge to let everything go. He wiped a couple more tears away and bit his lip.  
"I know, cariño," Lance murmured. "I know. C'mere, baby." It didn't even register to Keith until much later that Lance had used a pet name, but at that moment he was completely fine with it. He let Lance take him into his arms and keep him close, murmuring nothings into his ear. He slumped onto Lance, letting the blue paladin shift so that Keith practically sat in Lance's lap, his head settling in the crook of Lance's neck. A couple more tears threatened to slip, but he didn't have the energy to wipe them. Lance reached a thumb up and wiped them away for him. Keith hummed and leaned into the touch, then sank back down into Lance.   
"Yeah, that's it," Lance murmured, his smooth voice lulling Keith into security. "There we go, amor..."  
Keith sighed and felt Lance shiver at the breath on the shin, but Keith didn't care in the slightest. He curled up a little farther, grateful for Lance's warmth, and let his eyes slip closed.

Lance sighed in relief as he heard Keith's breathing even out, and hopefully for good this time. He yawned and slumped down against the pillow he was leaning on. He was tired. It's not like he was losing sleep over the Keith predicament, but it was around 3 am in the morning and they had training tomorrow. He huffed and shifted so that Keith's face was next to his chest. Said red paladin hummed, waking up, but Lance shushed him and told him to go back to sleep. He did- but not before wrapping those lithe arms around Lance's abdomen and burying his head in Lance's shirt. Lance's face went red, but he realized that Keith was just half asleep- he wouldn't do this if he were awake, so why take it to heart? He thought this, taking it to heart.   
Keith's breathing slowed once more and Lance decided to get some sleep for himself, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face in the red paladin's hair. 

He could get used to this. Yeah- not bad. Not bad at all.

\---

Keith woke up that next day to a cold spot where Lance was. He frowned, running his hand along the mattress, and sighed, sitting up. Despite his disappointment at the fact, he'd assumed that Lance had left before he'd woken, though, so he didn't think much of it. He knew that the blue paladin didn't really want to be seen coming out of his room, so he brushed it off. 

Lance was eating breakfast with Pidge when he walked into the dining room. He greeted them curtly and they looked up. Pidge grunted her 'hello', taking another bite of goo.  
"Morning, Mullet," Lance mumbled, his voice laced with sleep. "Hope you slept terribly."

Keith was about to respond with a light-hearted quip when he met Lance's eyes and, just like per usual, the red paladin saw nothing except for that bitter contempt that was the norm for the two. It was like the night before hadn't even happened. Keith stopped himself from furrowing his brows in hurt, grabbing a granola bar and leaving the room before he did anything rash. 

His face grew hot- why would he ever think that anything would change? He was so stupid. He thought this every morning, and still, he would hope and hope and hope that somehow something would be different the next night. That maybe Lance would smile at him during the day, would make a joke that wasn't at his expense.   
The hallway was cold, but the heat on his cheeks from embarrassment kept him warm. God, he was such a fuck up. 

Dumbass.

Reckless.

Freak.

Hot-head.

Freak.

Weirdo.

Freak.

Monster.

Freak.

Freak.

Freak.

He heard the voices of all of his foster families, his teachers, his classmates, his teammates blurring together into one. Freak. Freak. Freak. He growled and pushed open the door to the training hall, tearing off his jacket and summoning his bayard. Why did he even let Lance in, anyway? Nothing would ever change. Never. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how nice he was to the blue paladin, nothing would ever be good enough.   
He would never be good enough. He was never good enough. Not for school, not for the garrison, not for the kids in his classes. Not for his mom, not for his dad. Not for the foster families or his teachers. Not for Voltron, not for Shiro.  
Not for Lance.

Letting Lance help him was a mistake. It never would've worked out anyway.

"Training level eight," He shouted, dropping into a fighting stance and yelling out as he lunged at the bots.

\---

When Lance met Keith's eyes that morning, he wasn't expecting to see hope. No, he was expecting the same thing he was giving- dislike. A mutual dislike- that was normal for the two. And seeing that hope in Keith's eyes while he was shooting back that nasty glare was pretty jarring. Keith pursed his lips like he was trying not to make a face, then grabbed a granola bar and stalked out of the room.

Lance furrowed my brows and looked back to his bowl of food goo. He turned and saw Pidge looking at him out of the corner of her eye.   
"You fucked up, man," She said, her voice groggy and accusing. 

"What are you talking about?" He shot back, his defense mechanism kicking in when he knew it probably shouldn't have been. She sighed, taking out her tablet.

"I know you've been helping Keith," she muttered, logging in and pulling some cam feed up. "And I also know about what he went through as a kid."

Lance blanched. "How'd you know?" he asked, his voice quiet as not to alert anyone else, even though there was nobody else in the room. She cracked a smirk. 

"I know all, Lance," She said as she adjusted her glasses. She picked a camera and turned the footage to him. his eyes widened.   
Keith was there, fighting the bots like they were a lifeline, his face red in humiliation and tears welling up in those angry slate eyes. Lance took the tablet and zoomed in on Keith, seeing how hasty and inattentive his movements were. 

"What did I do?" He whispered, mostly to himself. 

Pidge sighed. "He let you in," She said, her voice monotone. "And for what, six days now, it's like you've forgotten that he has. He doesn't need someone who'll just push him away like you've been doing. He needs a constant."

He frowned. "What about Shiro? Why can't Shiro be his 'constant'?" He asked, crossing his arms and raising his brows. 

Pidge gave him a sideways glance. "Shiro has left him three times and his clone has yelled at him, accused him, nitpicked him, and basically abused him. The thing tried to kill him, for fuck's sake. If you think that Shiro can be his constant then you'd be dead wrong."

"Then why does it need to be me?"

"Because you're the one that reached out!" She exclaimed. "And Keith took your hand, Lance. And now you're trying to shake out of his grip during the day to uphold some sort of fucking reputation, then taking it again the next night as if nothing happened."

"I'm not doing that- Keith's the one pushing me away!" 

"Is he really, though? You did see his hand going for the food goo this morning- he was going to sit and eat with us for once. Then you had to go and glare at him like he was the fucking plague."

Lance bit his lip and looked at his lap. Pidge sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Listen, Lance," She began, her voice taut with exasperation. "I know you really don't mean to hurt him, but you do. And it's only going to hurt him in the long run. You need to clean up your fucking act, Lance."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you don't fix this soon, I don't think your guys' relationship, platonic or otherwise, will be salvageable."   
Lance swallowed hard. Pidge was right- she was always right. 

"What am I going to do?" He whispered, partly to himself and partly to Pidge. The latter rolled her eyes. 

"That's something you need to figure out on your own, Lance," She said. She stood, putting her bowl in the sink and leaving, stopping in the threshold and turning. "I suggest giving him some space right now. The right time to do something will come up eventually."

He nodded and she walked away, leaving Lance alone with his thoughts. 

\---

Lance was in front of Keith's door before he even heard the nightmare begin. He stood outside of the threshold, listening to the red paladin mumble frantic pleas- pleas for safety, for release, for help. Pleas for someone to rescue him or for someone to fucking stop. And then, out of nowhere, pleas for everything to just end. For whoever in his dream who was hurting him to just finish him off already instead of subjecting him to this torture.   
Suddenly, the mutterings stopped abruptly, a choked gasp marking the end of the dream. He heard sobs coming from inside and he waited a moment, just so that Keith wouldn't automatically assume that Lance was outside his door the entire time.   
He raised his hand to knock, but upon doing so, he heard a low growling tone from behind the door.

"Fuck off, Lance," Keith hissed, his voice, albeit weak, was low and guttural and still scared Lance pretty bad. He almost did fuck off. Almost. 

"Keith-"

"Fuck. Off," Keith growled, sounding closer to the door this time. It would be pretty hard not to find the red paladin menacing on a normal basis, but at that moment he just sounded small. Scared. Damaged. And Lance wanted so desperately to fix it. He sighed and leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, though Lance knew Keith could hear it. "I'm sorry for everything."

There was a short silence before Lance heard Keith slide down the door, sitting on the floor. Lance did the same on the other side. He felt his communicator buzz in his pocket and pulled it out. He raised his eyebrows when he saw that Keith had texted him.

Knife Emo: im sorry

splash splash: you didnt do anything wrong

Knife Emo: i did something though

Knife Emo: isnt that why you hate me

Knife Emo: what did i do ill be better i promise

Knife Emo: im sorry please just tell me why you hate me

Knife Emo: im sorry

splash splash: jeez you write quick oof

splash splash: dude you didnt do anything it's me

Knife Emo: then why do you hate me

splash splash: i dont hate you man

Knife Emo: then why do you help me at night but then go back to how you were before in the morning

splash splash: i dunno

splash splash: theres no reason

splash splash: it wasnt justified and im an asshole

splash splash: i didnt think it would hurt you since youd been reciprocating it before

splash splash: i never meant to hurt you

splash splash: i didnt want to hurt you and im sorry

splash splash: im so sorry

The texts stopped with that, which worried Lance. He looked up from the communicator when he heard a muffled, hiccupping sob come from the door and furrowed his brows. The door vibrated, signifying that it was going to open in a second, so he scrambled to stand as the door slid open. He saw Keith on the other side, looking like an absolute wreck. His cheeks were red and filled with tears and Keith's eyes were red and purple rimmed- like before. His mouth was twisted up into a grimace of sadness and pain as he looked at Lance with disdain.

"Fuck you," He said, his voice wobbling and teary. His fists were clenched at his sides. "Fuck you."

"I'm sorry," Lance murmured, looking at Keith guiltily. He meant it. He really, really meant it.

There was a beat of silence before Keith walked up and put his arms around Lance. 

"I hate you," he whispered into the fabric of Lance's t-shirt. He sobbed and bunched his hands in the back of it. 

"I know," Lance replied, holding Keith tightly. Keith gripped him even harder and heaved another sob. "Shh. I'm sorry. Nothing was your fault. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so, so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Keith muttered, pushing away from Lance and wiping his tears. "I get it." He crossed his arms defensively and looked away from Lance, a frown steeled into his face. 

"Is there..." Lance began, rubbing his neck anxiously. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Keith looked back, that grimace still on his face. He furrowed his brows and sighed shakily. This boy always seemed to worm his way into Keith's heart, didn't he? Always. Without fail. No matter what he did, Keith always seemed to find it in himself to forgive. Forgive, forgive, forgive. It was an endless cycle.  
But this time, Lance seemed to want to make everything better. And Keith didn't know if he could trust that. 

"I-" He grimaced when his voice cracked. "I'm... I dunno."

Lance bit his lip and looked to the ground. Then he had an idea. He looked back up and met Keith's tired gaze with a wary smile. "I'm gonna serenade you."

"What?"

"I'm gonna serenade you."

"No- I heard what you said, but what the fuck?"

"I'm gonna sing to you until you smile."

"What?" 

Lance groaned at Keith's obliviousness. "Come with me." He grabbed Keith's wrist, ignoring the disgruntled noise of protest, and dragged him to the observatory. On the way he picked up his guitar from his room, taking it out and smiling at the younger teen.  
Once they got into the observatory, Lance sat Keith down with a grin. 

"What do you hope to achieve by doing this, Lance?" Keith asked quietly. He seemed to not have completely recovered from the night's previous happenings, and for that Lance felt bad. He sighed.

"Just... Just let me do this, alright?"

Keith huffed and made a motion for Lance to just do it already, and Lance gave a toned down smile. He sat down next to Keith and started strumming softly.

"My skin is made of static, touch me soft. My skin is made of static so please touch me gently. What is it that lonely people seek? I don't know but please, my pieces, keep.  
I have never felt another's hand upon my cheek," He sang. "I have always thought my soul to be very weak. Maybe that's due in part to the terror I have seen, as a kid operating a lion-shaped war machine."

"How niche," Keith interjected, a small smirk on his face. Lance shushed him.

"I can't drown my demons they can swim, but I can block them out by keeping my bedroom lights dim. My thoughts are bursting at the seams. My heart runs wild, chooses who it deems. I don't know my place. I'm selfish and impatient. I can't say goodbye, so I lie to you..."

Keith smiled and looked at the stars as Lance sang the chorus again. It was nice. A quiet moment for just the two of them. It almost erased all of the bad memories that they shared. Almost. Everything still lingered in the back of Keith's mind, reminding him of why Lance was singing to him right then.

"I'm afraid of hurting or losing friends, but even so I know how we all end up in the end. I'm sorry that I wasn't there," Keith looked up at that, meeting Lance's gaze. "Next time that this happens, I'll come prepared.

Don't know my place. I'm wired and I'm anxious. I can't say goodbye, I keep lying to you..."

Keith sighed as Lance repeated the chorus again. This was... different from anything else he'd done with Lance. It was nice, of course, as stated earlier, but honestly, Keith didn't know how to react. Was he supposed to sing along? He didn't even know the words. Was he supposed to do anything? He had no idea. So he just sighed and looked outside and waited for Lance to be finished so they could go to sleep.  
Lance noticed Keith's agitation and tapered the song into something different- a slow, lazy melody that made Keith nostalgic of old times.

"C'mere, Keith. Let me serenade you til you smile." Keith chuckle at that.

He tentatively leaned on Lance's shoulder, feeling the other sigh in relief. 

"Wise men say," Keith's lips twitched into a smile at the familiar tune. "Only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you."

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you."

Keith listened contentedly as Lance sang to him, feeling his eyes drifting shut the longer Lance sang. Soon enough, he was letting himself slump onto the blue paladin, hearing the music quiet to the point where Lance's voice was just above a whisper.

"I can't help falling in love with you. Oh, I can't help falling in love with you." 

Keith fell asleep right after he felt a light kiss brush his temple. He couldn't find it in himself to care at that moment.   
Things weren't solved just like that. Things rarely ever are. Resolve takes time and effort. But Lance knew he was willing to put in the effort. To pick up the pieces of Keith he threw to the ground and try his best to glue his friend(?) back together. And Keith was willing to open up. He was willing to trust that Lance would change. And he did. They both did. 

But before all of that, Keith leaned on Lance, half asleep and listening to Lance's lovely melodies as they fell from his mouth. How very nice indeed.


	21. Migraines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU Keith gets a migraine and nerd Lance helps  
> Heavily inspired from a fic I can't find anymore

As Keith tenderly staggered to his bed, a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a book clutched firmly in the other, he experienced a curious torrent of thought spanning from 'I want to fucking drop out and die' to ' I hope no one sees me like this '.

Though he was loathe to admit that he was anything at all like his frankly annoying theatre major friend Pidge, Keith could not help but feel so dramatically existential whenever he got a migraine. Matters at hand were always black and white whenever that scalding pain behind his eye manifested itself; the grey area in which he usually thrived completely disappeared, to be replaced with extreme thoughts. And so when he flopped onto his bed, he simultaneously predicted that he was at his life's end and also internally whined for a human presence that he could vent his pain at.

However, on a Friday night, the chance of having a visitor was slim to none. Pidge was in all likelihood either attending a show at one of the local theatres or getting utterly trashed with her groupies. Keith was frequently surprised at her ability to do both at once. His early childhood education major friend Hunk would be tagging along with Pidge, shepherding her from place to place and slipping a glass of water into her hands so that she would pace himself properly. Hunk was surprisingly well trained in the Bacchus maneuver for one who was soon to be teaching small children, individuals who, in all probability, regarded any fluid amber in color to either be urine or the greatest of apple juices.

No, the only person likely to enter his dorm on a Friday night would be Lance, his biology major roommate. Keith was willing to bet that that absolute dweeb was still in the library, immersed in a book, completely unaware of what time or what day it was. Keith was about to crack a fond smile at the thought when the sizzling pain in his skull suddenly spiked sharply, causing him to hiss between his teeth and to clap a hand to his eye. With difficulty and shaking hands, he popped open the lid of the painkillers, and regretted ignoring Lance's advice. He could practically hear his roommate droning in his mind: ' It would be in your best interests to take an appropriate painkiller for a headache or migraine as soon as you begin to experience symptoms. This essentially 'nips it in the bud', if you will. Taking the pills after the pain has set in reduces its effectiveness.

It wasn't Keith's fault that he had work to do and had therefore ignored the slight throbbing in his head. He just assumed that the discomfort was all apart of reading an abysmally boring text for his abysmally boring literature class. And then, the universe decided to stake a personal vendetta against him and instill in him a debilitating migraine right in the middle of a chapter of The Epic of Gilgamesh . Keith had cried out in pain, completely aware that he was well past Lance's ideal threshold of pain pill consumption time.

And so it came to pass that Keith lay in a fetal position on his bed, the ancient epic clutched to his chest as he tried to crack his conundrum. To read or not to read? Unsurprisingly, he had procrastinated on reading the first three chapters (tablets? He was fairly certain the book was split into tablets), and had waited until the very last few hours until the quiz his professor had assigned was due to begin reading. And so with aching eyes and heart, he reopened the book and began to torpidly scan repetitive lines broken up by ellipses and footnotes, wishing for someone or something to release him from his hell.

As time wore on and Keith found it increasingly difficult to focus on absorbing the text while suppressing the desire to vomit, he felt the only too familiar pang of cold tension tug at his chest. God, why had his professor made the quiz due on a Friday night? No professor in their right mind would ever make an assignment due on the night on which half of the campus would be crammed into frat houses and getting up to illicit activity. Perhaps it was meant to be an exercise in time management. In any case, Keith had procrastinated up until the proverbial last hour, and he was on the verge of tears as he desperately tried to read, absorb, and prepare himself to take the quiz.

It wouldn't be such a big deal if Keith hadn't already missed or screwed up most of the quizzes the professor assigned. That in itself would also not be such a big deal if quizzes didn't make up a good portion of Keith's grade. He absolutely had to take this quiz and he absolutely had to do well on it, or else his grade would surely tank. But, on the same token, what if he really did some damage if he continued to work in this state? What if his ache became so bad that he wouldn't be able to sleep, and then he'd slack off in his classes, and that would create a huge load of work he'd have to catch up on and then-

Keith snapped the book shut, clutching his temples and breathing desperately in an attempt to calm the overwhelming rush of thoughts pounding through his nerves. He groaned as his anxiety driven heart raced, the veins of his temples pounding like drums against his skull. He took deep breaths, rolling his blanket between his fingers as he focused on regulating his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as the overhead light seemed to prick his eyes like needles. He painfully slid off of his bed, and gingerly picked his way over to the other side of the room so that he could flick off the lights. Instantly, the room was bathed in a soothing darkness. He sighed, and released soft gasps of pain as he wobbled back to his bed.

He buried his face into his blanket, willing his anxiety and headache to go away only to become even more panicked when he realized that simply laying there and doing nothing was not going to make matters for himself any better. He groaned, spiraling into a familiar phase of listless wallowing, wincing externally and internally as he felt more and more disgusted at himself for doing nothing as the clock ticked ever closer to his midnight deadline.

Depending upon who was asked, it was either fortunate or unfortunate that at the moment in which Keith began to enter a bout of apathetic dysfunctionality Lance entered the residence hall and began to ascend the steps to his room. Lance would consider it to be very fortunate that he decided quite suddenly to return to his dorm from the library early; he had been happily holed up in his nook in the expansive library when he was struck with a lack of desire to continue reading about magical girls/boys/traps in manga. He was not exactly sure what had spurned him from his usual evening activity (beating his meat to neko hentai). Perhaps overhearing some of the librarians talking about their plans for the night, or perhaps noticing that the library was in fact completely deserted tipped him off to the fact that he was the outlier sitting at a study table when, really, he had no need to be. It was, to quote Pidge, fucking Friday.

And so, on that nippy winter evening, Lance had packed his belongings away, tucked the book back onto its shelf, and had gone back to his dorm. Unlike the librarians, he really didn't have any plans for the evening. His plan had been to study, but what with this lack of motivation, he felt that the only thing to stifle his inevitable boredom would be to head back to his dorm and perhaps watch some documentaries. It would be a quiet night in; he could rely on his psychology major roommate Keith to maintain silence.

Really, it was a blessing that he was rooming with Keith. He shuddered to imagine rooming with anyone else. To room with Hunk would be slightly unnerving, as the man somehow could be annoyingly nice, and to room with Pidge would undoubtedly be a nightmare. Rooming with a stranger would be absolute hell; it had been in freshman year when Lance had first met Keith as his university-assigned roommate. But they soon found common interests; reading, anime, and the soothing concept of silence. Both understood the importance of the comfortable silence, and both learned to accept one another's' quirks (though they did get on each other's nerves from time to time). Keith got used to Lance's nitpicky cleaning behaviors, and Lance got used to Keith listening to music at high volumes with his headphones. Their toleration quickly bloomed into a friendship. Indeed, Lance found himself issuing Keith more thoughtful advice and less slightly-useless trivia, and Keith made sure that if anyone ever came over that they did not violate Lance's unwritten rules of a clean-living space. They looked out for each other without verbally recognizing it. Keith called it 'not being a dick'. Lance called it symbiosis.

Lance was aware of Keith's less than ideal mental health. He knew that the man could at times fall victim to bouts of anxiety, and he knew that, as a result, he oftentimes forgot to partake in healthy habits. He'd stay up late, albeit quietly enough so that Lance could sleep, and rise early. He'd drink coffee instead of water, and forget to eat. When he managed to remember to eat, it was usually food of an unhealthy and not very filling sort. Lance, despite himself, often found that whenever he stopped off at one of the university food trucks or ventured to the local market, he bought enough food for himself and for Keith. He wasn't quite sure as to why or how this habit developed; he only knew that he had started doing it during finals season freshman year, and here he was, fall semester of their junior year, stopping at Keith's favorite sushi truck and ordering his roommate's favorite dish. It was peculiar, his desire to provide and help, but it also gave him enough excuse to order food of his own and also give him a chance to relish the look of gratitude Keith always shot him when he presented his gifts.

What Lance expected to find when he finally did reach his room was Keith to either be curled up with his laptop on his chest on the floor or lying flat on his back on his bed, his bulky headphones clapped over his ears and his eyes shut. The fairy lights would be on above their beds, casting a soft filter over the order of Lance's half of the room and the chaos of Keith's half. It would be warm, quiet, and domestic, almost like the way Lance's brain felt at the idea of entering the happy environment.

However, he was not expecting the room to be plunged in utter darkness when he crossed the threshold. Usually, at least the fairy lights were left on when they both were out so as to prevent fumbling in the darkness. However, the room was swathed in an impenetrable, pitch black cloak of darkness. Lance, slightly baffled, promptly began to fumble in the darkness until he reached the light switch. He flicked it on, and squinted as light filled the room, his eyes adjusting slowly and painfully. His head turned sharply when he heard a thin groan issue from Keith's side of the room.

Lance tilted his head, his brows furrowing as he placed the sushi on his meticulously organized desk and shrugged off his coat. "Keith?" he asked, his tone cautious.

There was a lump of rumpled blankets and hastily strewn about limbs on Keith's bed. For a moment, Lance's heart dropped to his stomach in fear; had he just walked in on something he shouldn't have? Keith rarely had people over, and Lance had never known him to take them into his bed in such a fashion. He coughed nervously and reached for his jacket once more when he was stopped by a high-pitched whine and a few garbled words coming from Keith's bed.

Lance took a tentative step forward, and saw that Keith was in fact alone. He was lying on his side, his shoulders hunched. Lance saw that he was still wearing his day clothes, his artfully patched hoodie still zipped, hell, his boots still on. He shifted, presumably burying his face into his pillow. Instantly, Lance snapped his mouth shut. Keith was probably trying to sleep. Unexpectedly, Lance felt a smile forming on his lips and a warmth swell up in his chest. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of his boots. He glanced at his watch; it was nine in the evening, an almost suspiciously healthy hour for Keith to be turning in.

Lance was feeling very content at that moment. The week was over, he had sushi, and the only noise was the hush of warm air coming in from the vents and Keith mumbling in his sleep. He again felt a wave of gratitude towards Keith for being such a wonderful roommate, despite his unorganized lifestyle. He tucked his shoes under his bed and suppressed the urge to hum as he changed into pajamas and pulled a Picasso-esque sweater over his head (a gift from Pidge last Christmas). He flicked off the overhead light and plugged in his BB-8 fairy lights. His bed was bathed in faint yellow light, while Keith's side of the room was cast in shadow. He was about to climb onto his bed, sushi in hand when Keith suddenly cried out, as if in pain.

"Keith, are you alright?" Lance asked, placing his sushi on his bed and turning to face Keith's bed, standing on tiptoe and furrowing his brow in concern.

"...Can you turn off the goddamn lights?" his roommate groaned in response.

Lance blinked, squinting through the shadows. He could just discern the silhouette of Keith slowly moving into an upright position on his bed, his hands clasped against his head.

"...They are off."

Keith groaned.

"Are you sure you're OK?"

Silence.

"You're acting weird, Keith."

The response Lance got was a pathetic whimper, and one that was so defeated. Lance hadn't heard Keith sound in such dire straits since his first meltdown in front of Lance, in the spring of freshman year.

"I-I'm fine, I just don't feel really good." Keith responded lamely.

Lance stood in place, chewing his lip. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and rubbed his wrist. He didn't know if he was crossing any boundaries by asking Keith about his ailments. He swallowed his misgivings when he just got the feeling that something was...wrong.

"Are you in pain? Physically or otherwise?" he asked slowly, watching Keith closely.

The silence suggested that 'both' was the correct answer.

Lance sighed inaudibly, swallowing. In the past, he had left Keith to himself whenever he was struggling mentally, figuring that Keith could best get his mind together if left to his own devices. Keith was ashamed of his poor mental health, especially when it manifested in front of another person. Lance hardly blamed him; he himself was hardly a helpful person when it came to comforting to the hurt and aiding the emotionally sick.

"...Would you feel any better if I left?" Lance asked, his tone reluctant. He had just gotten changed, and his sushi was waiting for him-

"No," came the sharp response. Lance, though at times not the most socially adept, could have sworn he heard Keith's voice break, "No...I'm sorry, I got this huge migraine and I didn't take medicine on time and now I can barely fucking move 'cuz everything hurts and I didn't take meds yet because I forgot to get some water and I didn't eat anything and I can't just go to bed because I gotta read three fucking tablets of Gilgamesh before midnight and I-"

"Whoa, whoa," Lance said, moving to Keith's bedside and raising his hands to calm the shallow and rapid burble of words falling out of Keith's mouth, "One thought at a time, alright? Talking like that and not breathing is gonna make you spiral into an anxiety attack, and I don't think either of us want that right now, yeah?"

As Lance reached down amongst the tangle of wires at the foot of Keith's bed, he heard Keith groan, indicating that he had nodded, and heard him take several stuttered attempts at deep, calming breaths. As Lance flickered on Keith's fairy lights so he could better examine his friend, he heard him say "I'm not...I just don't feel good. In the head."

Lance couldn't help but chuckle softly as he straightened up. He returned to Keith's side, the other man having moved to a sitting position, his legs dangling over the bed. His head was hanging, his fingers twisting in his lap.

"I can take that to mean one of two things, Keith," Lance said quietly, taking extra care to keep his voice soft so as to not worsen Keith's migraine.

Keith hissed, rubbing his face in frustration. "Just talk straight, OK? My head feels like it's splitting in half, and yeah, so what if I'm a little anxious right now?"

"I never said that being anxious was a bad thing. I didn't mean you any harm, dude," Lance reminded him gently. With proper lighting, he looked Keith up and down. He was quivering ever so slightly, and swaying from side to side. His skin was pale, and his movements seemed heavy except for his hands. They were wringing together in his lap, one of Keith's primary indicators of anxiety. Lance thought that perhaps he looked a bit clammy and wondered whether or not he was becoming ill. Tentatively, he reached his hand forward, but paused midway.

"Keith, could you...can I...?"

Keith lifted his head as if it had the weight of a thousand rocks and looked with red rimmed eyes at Lance. Lance's chest tightened when he saw his wobbling lips and his wetly shining eyes. Keith's eyes narrowed as his eyes alighted on Lance's partially uplifted hand. He glanced pointedly at Lance, too exhausted or too pained to speak.

"Can I take your temperature? I want to make sure you're not too sick," Lance asked, misgivings and the desire to run coursing through him. Was he pushing a boundary? He tended to do that a lot as a result of his social ineptitude. But he wanted to make sure that Keith was alright. His fingers began to curl back towards himself in uncertainty, but Keith nodded slowly, out of caution or out of fear of paining himself further Lance was unsure. Either way, he gently pressed his hand to Keith's forehead while pressing his other hand to his own forehead. He felt a warm quaver in his stomach when he saw Keith's eyes flutter closed.

What was he doing? Lance was hardly the caregiver, yet here he was, stricken with the desire to feel Keith's forehead, to see that he wasn't feverish! All he'd have to do to be any more like Hunk was change his major to early childhood education. Normally, it was Hunk who did all of this nursing business for them all. Hunk was always the one with the thermometer, or the alka-seltzer. Hunk was the one with the subscription to Chegg. But why now did he feel it was his responsibility to help Keith; indeed, why was he so worried? Why, suddenly, did it matter to him so that Keith was made comfortable, that he was eased of his suffering? And what was this feeling in his stomach that flared sharply every time Keith's breath puffed out onto his wrist? Surely, that was not the infamous butterfly sensation?

"Well, doc, am I gonna die?"

Lance blinked, and saw Keith squinting up at him. He cleared his throat, and hastily removed his hand. Keith's head lolled forward alarmingly, as if he had been leaning into the hand. He groaned, and rubbed at his temples.

"Uh...You're a little warm, but not warm enough for me to get concerned. Your prognosis is good." Lance said, his hands quickly diving into his pockets.

Keith chuckled shortly. "Yeah, whatever. I gotta...I gotta get some water...I'll be OK."

He was about to slide off of the bed when he was paused mid-motion by Lance quickly reached out in a halting gesture, his fingers splayed. He froze, and stared with wide, slightly concerned at his quickly flustering friend.

"No, wait!" Lance spluttered, quite as if he was venturing off script. He certainly felt out of place when he gestured for Keith to sit back and found himself saying "Let me get it. You...You just relax."

Keith's expression twisted minutely into one of awkwardness. His eyes skittered away from Lance's and he rubbed his arm, his feet starting to swing uneasily. "But I'm getting up anyway. I gotta...I gotta handle myself..."

Keith blinked rapidly, and Lance put on a show of pretending not to notice the two fat tears that rolled down his cheeks before Keith's ashamed face was quickly hidden by sweaterpaws as he groaned.

Lance huffed through his nose and worried his lip between his teeth. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pajamas, rubbing the soft material as he tried to sort through the wave of emotions in his chest. Keith was very obviously overwhelmed, likely torn between the desire for independence and the realization that he truly needed some help. Lance was only too sympathetic of his situation; he knew how debilitating migraines could be. He reached forward, and patted Keith's shoulder before heading over to their shared fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He returned, and awkwardly tugged on Keith's sleeve until Keith peeked through his fingers at him.

Lance held out the water, the lid already twisted off. "Here. Take a drink and try to work through one problem at a time," he urged quietly, smiling softly.

Keith cautiously took the offering and took several sips as Lance rooted around on the top shelf of one of their storage containers. He took several deep breaths and watched as Lance pulled out napkins and some paper plates. He scrubbed at his eyes when Lance turned away, rustling with a plastic bag. The noise seemed amplified to Keith, his ears ringing and his eyes throbbing with both migraine pangs and tears. He was so tired. His head fucking hurt. He had so much to do-

Try to voice one thought at a time.

"...I didn't take my medicine on time..." Keith began slowly, "Is there any point in taking it now?"

Lance turned around and smiled encouragingly. "Yes, of course. The medicine will do its job, though it probably won't work as well. Can I ask why you didn't take it right away?"

Keith sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I figured it would go away once I finished my work. Needless to say, it didn't, and now I need to do my work before midnight with a fucking migraine."

He rubbed his temples and sighed again. "Just kill me, Lance. You'd be doing me a favor."

He heard Lance chuckle, his tone slightly forced, but Keith appreciated its good natured vibes. "I think I'd be doing you more of a favor if I gave you this."

Keith opened his eyes and saw Lance holding out a plate loaded with his favorite sushi rolls. If Keith didn't know Lance any better, he'd say that he was looking almost shy. A smile was fighting to be seen on his lips, and his shoulders were hunching slightly, as if he was trying to hide himself.

Lance gave an uncertain laugh as Keith merely gaped at him. "I...I stopped at the sushi cart on Fourth Street, and I figured that since I was there and that you have a particular preference for the avocado rolls that I would purchase you some as well."

Lance shook the plate hopefully. Keith swallowed, and bit back the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that washed over him, ignoring his fluttering heart that cheered as, suddenly, his loneliness began to vanish. Tentatively, he took the plate.

"Oh! This is...uh..." Keith stammered, pressing his elbows into his stomach so as to silence the sudden roaring of his stomach, "That's real thoughtful of you...Thanks."

Lance smiled and watched as Keith fumbled with the wrapper of the chopsticks, and, with fondness, took them out of Keith's shaking hands and opened them, breaking the sticks apart before handing them back. Keith picked a roll up with the dexterity of a veteran chopstick user and shoved it into his mouth, chewing tenderly so as to not aggravate his pain further. His expression seemed much less panicked than it had previously, and he was no longer crying. Lance turned back to his own meal, leaving Keith to his eating.

"...You don't have to do this."

Lance looked up from where he was opening his own dinner, and saw Keith looking at him with an unreadable expression, the corner of his mouth smeared with a small piece of avocado.

"I'm sorry, do what?" he asked, genuinely confused as to what Keith meant.

Keith shuffled uncomfortably and picked at a spot on his neck. "This," he muttered, shaking the plate and gesturing to the water bottle, "I was...I was handling myself..."

Lance adopted a thoughtful expression, leaning against his bed as he mulled over Keith's words. "I know I don't have to, Keith," he responded slowly, "...But I want to."

Keith gaped, but Lance missed his blush due to the poor lighting. However, Lance knew that Keith had assented to him by the way he was failing to bite back a smile as he focused on the plate in his lap. Lance's stomach fluttered again, and he decided it was because perhaps he was hungry as well. He opened his own meal, and they merely ate together in silence.

"Are you feeling any better?" Lance asked quietly after Keith had eaten half of his portion and pushed it aside about half an hour later.

"I'm not hungry anymore, but my head still fucking hurts." With that note, Keith popped open the painkillers and swallowed two of the pills.

"No, I was talking about your mental health," Lance said, liking to think that his tone was encouraging. He knew that this was a sensitive topic.

Keith made a vague hand gesture and grumbled incoherently.

Lance took a deep breath. "Is there anything you...need to talk about?"

Keith's face twitched, and he immediately curled in on himself, his legs clapping together and his arms clinging to his sides. He shook his head sharply, and swore lightly, growling through the pain.

Lance's stomach clenched. He immediately knew that Keith did, in fact, need to talk to someone. But he was so damn defensive, so closed off. He hated relying on other people for anything, even something as minor as him asking for Lance to do even the slightest of favors, such as turning off the light or giving him food. Lance had been fine with it at first, respected Keith's privacy, but he didn't know how to act now that he knew that said privacy was damaging his friend. He was bottling up again. He was willing to gamble that Keith's migraine was being caused by stress. Hadn't Keith said something about procrastinating on an assignment? And were midterms not soon approaching?

Lance swallowed the last morsel of his food, and straightened up, catching Keith's eye, his expression earnest. "Are you sure?" he asked, trying not to sound too pressing.

"Completely." Keith hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Because in the event that you did need to talk to someone, I'm...I'm here to listen," Lance said calmly, "I may not be the best at all those sappy reassurances, but I'm here. I... I can at least listen, if need be."

Keith snapped his mouth shut and wiped at it with his sleeve. "...Whatever," he bit out, and he promptly laid down, tossing his food onto his desk, "I'm going to sleep."

"Oh," Lance mumbled, thoroughly put out, "Goodnight."

Keith began to shuffle with his sheets, and Lance quietly crawled into his own bed. He couldn't understand it. Had he said something wrong? Perhaps his tone had been hurtful. Keith had gone from warm and flusteredly happy to cold and angry in the passing of one sentence, and that sentence was an offer of help, at that! The sadness in Lance's heart was quickly replaced with frustration. There was no helping that kid, it seemed.

Lance was about to burrow under his covers and flip open his laptop when there came a sudden and loud curse from Keith's bed.

"Wait, what time is it?!" Keith gasped hoarsely, struggling into a sitting position, various objects falling off of his bed as he floundered around.

Lance blinked and glanced at his bedside clock. "It's ten thirty," he said cautiously, his tone also slightly curious as he watched Keith struggle to escape the blankets' grasp.

"No, no, no, I have to read three chapters and take a twenty question quiz by midnight, fuck !" Keith groaned, feeling around his bed for his laptop and switching it on. The blue light briefly illuminated his face, and Lance winced with Keith as he imagined the searing pain he must have felt when the light flooded his eyes. Keith swore again, his voice breaking as he covered his eyes. In the light, Lance could see him shaking, and instantly, his frustration with Keith vanished.

"...I can't do this," Keith groaned weakly, his tone so quiet that Lance was certain that it was a proclamation not meant for his ears.

"...Maybe you shouldn't," Lance ventured softly, "Keith, you work way too hard, and you barely ever give yourself a break. I'm sure missing one quiz won't harm your grade that much-"

"But it will, Lance!" Keith snapped, slamming his fists into the mattress, and turning to glare at him, "I've already fucked up so many of these quizzes! My grade is gonna tank! And then I'm gonna fail and lose my scholarship and, and-!"

Lance was off of his bed and padding over to Keith in a moment's notice. Bravely, he grabbed Keith's knee and squeezed gently, cutting off Keith's verbal flow and causing him to make eye contact.

"Your breaths are shallow, dude. You're gonna hyperventilate," Lance said calmly, rubbing Keith's kneecap gently with his thumb, "Please try to take deep breaths, OK?"

Keith blinked pleadingly at him, but looked away, his face coloring with shame. However, he complied, taking deep breaths and squeezing the soft material of his blanket. Lance could almost feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.

"I'm sorry," Keith whimpered, his voice broken. He limply punched the mattress, his lip quivering.

"It's alright. You're upset," Lance whispered.

"It's not alright," Keith argued, refusing to make eye contact, "You're just...You're just trying to help me and I'm being a jerk again."

Keith huffed unhappily. There came a heavy silence. Lance fumbled with words to say, rolling over different cliches and platitudes in his mind. The longer neither of them spoke, the more tense Keith became. Suddenly, an idea came to life in Lance's mind.

"Your assignment is due at midnight, right?" he asked.

Keith groaned miserably and gave an affirmative thumbs up.

"Alright..." Lance said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully "Then we've got an hour and a half to read three chapters and take a quiz."

"Y'know, doing the math isn't really helping," Keith laughed nervously, "...Wait, what do you mean 'we'?"

Keith looked at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion once again.

"I mean that, if you'd let me, I could read the passages that you are gonna be tested on to you so that your migraine doesn't get worse," Lance replied, shooting Keith a searching look.

Keith's features softened, his eyebrows unfurrowing and his lips parting softly. He blinked, the skeptical gleam in his eyes melting into something much softer. "You...You'd really do that?" he asked as if he could hardly believe his ears.

Lance nodded firmly.

"But...you're a nerd, right? Can't I just slide you a twenty and you'd do it for me?" Keith said, trying to make light of a heavy situation.

Lance arched an eyebrow. "First of all, I'm not a nerd. Second, no. I'm not doing it for you. Then you wouldn't learn anything."

Keith sighed, and hung his head. "You don't have to do it, I can do it on my own."

"I'm sure you can," Lance said indulgently, "But do you want to?"

Keith thought for a moment, rubbing his neck. His knees bounced slightly under Lance's hold. "I mean...no?" he said, his tone defeated.

"Then let me help you," Lance whispered, gently pressing the knee down as he rightfully guessed that Keith needed grounding. Keith took a deep breath and seemed to will himself to sit completely still.

"But...I don't want to bother you," Keith murmured from between the lip he was biting.

"I wouldn't volunteer to do something if it bothered me, Keith. And besides...I just want to help you, alright?" Lance said, trying not to let on his frustration at not being allowed to help his friend.

Keith hesitated. What he said next made a pang of triumph and happiness spike in Lance's chest. "...Just...just don't tell the others, OK?"

"Promise," Lance murmured excitedly, "I won't breathe a word."

"Good, because Pidge will have a field day if he hears that you read me a story," Keith grumbled, watching as Lance bent down to collect the book that had fallen off of his bed when he had sat up. Keith reached for his laptop and wiggled the mouse to chase away his screensaver while Lance padded quietly to his desk, rummaging in one of the drawers.

"I'll use my booklight to read," Lance explained when Keith inquired as to what he was doing, "That way we can turn off the fairy lights and ease the light in your eyes."

Lance returned, holding in his hand his clip-on booklight and putting on his reading glasses. Many a night Lance would clip the contraption to his books and read into the early hours of the morning. Although he didn't like to admit it, Keith loved watching Lance read and loved seeing Lance in his glasses. He could see just how quickly Lance would get immersed in his book, and how enraptured his glazed eyes would get behind those thick lenses, a small smile forming on his lips. He was such a nerd.

Despite his inner voice raging for independence and a desire to for him to complete his work on his own and not act like a weak bitch, Keith was actually somewhat excited to have Lance read to him. He was too exhausted to indulge in his pride; he was in reality quite grateful that Lance had provided him with an alternative to completing his work. Squinting at the laptop screen, he ignored his aches as best as he could as he pulled up the twenty-question quiz. He groaned inwardly when he saw a lot of 'describe' and 'explain' questions. He kicked off his boots. It was going to be a long night.

He looked up when he heard Lance pulling up his chair and clearing his throat. "You said you had to read tablets one through three, right?" he asked, peering up at Keith over the blue rims of his glasses, smacking the booklight as it flickered. He had had the light since freshman year. It had gone through a lot and was likely in its dying days.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Keith responded, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes, "Though I read part of tablet one already."

Lance nodded and hummed as he thumbed through the pages until he reached the first chapter, "You should lie down. It'll take away some of the pressure in your head."

Keith needed no second bidding. Lance waited until he was comfortably snuggled down amongst his blankets before beginning. He cleared his throat and was about to read when he was interrupted.

"Hey, Lance?"

Lance looked up again. "Hm?"

"...Thanks." Keith muttered quietly.

Lance grinned, his chest warming softly. "No problem." he said, quite pleased.

And thus, Lance began to read. He tried to keep his voice well-modulated and quiet enough so as to not disturb Keith, but also loud enough so that Keith could hear him and absorb what he was saying. He read slowly and clearly, settling back into his chair to get more comfortable. Keith was a good subject to read to; he remained respectfully quiet and did not fidget.

But something just did not feel right about the whole situation. No matter much closer he edged his chair closer to Keith's bed, Lance feared that Keith couldn't hear him. Keith frequently furrowed his brows when Lance spoke, and he appeared to be tilting his head closer to Lance, as if willing the sound of the voice to enter his ear.

Lance, at Keith's desire, skipped over the part of Enkidu meeting Shamhat, but before he could pick up a good spot in which to resume, Keith interrupted him again.

"Lance, I can't hear you very well," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead and sitting up.

"I can read louder, you don't have to move," Lance said as Keith swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"No, I'm moving because I have to pee...But, any louder and I think it'll hurt my head..." Keith grumbled, moving gingerly as he prepared to slide to the floor.

"Well, it appears we have reached an... what is that word you use? Oh yeah- an impasse. I can't get louder or move, so we're stuck between a rock and a hard place," Lance said, his tone slightly annoyed. He thumbed the pages agitatedly.

"...Well..." Keith said quietly, his gaze wandering over to his bed. Lance watched as Keith looked from the spot on his bed and back to him, nibbling his lips and bobbing his head pointedly.

Lance got the impression that he was supposed to be understanding something better left unspoken, but, as per usual, it flew over his head. "Oh," he said in an overly emphasized tone of realization, only so that he would appear to understand why Keith kept staring at his bedsheets "Uh..."

"Yeah," Keith said, tilting his head awkwardly to the spot next him.

Lance nodded but didn't move. After a few moments of tense silence, Lance cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you're trying to say-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just get up here, will you?" Keith snapped, patting the spot next to him in frustration.

"Oh!" Lance said in genuine realization.

"Turn off the lights on your way up," Keith grumbled as he slid down, his face flushed scarlet. He brushed past Lance, flipping up his hoodie and scurrying out of the door into the direction of the bathroom. Lance shook his head and stood, pushing the chair back to his desk. He knelt down to the tangle of wires next to Keith's bed, and flicked off the fairy lights. Soon, the only light in the room came from his booklight and the silvery, filtered rays of the moon spilling in from the window. Cautiously, as if stepping into uncharted territory, Lance climbed onto Keith's bed. He sat perpendicular to the mattress, his back pressed against the wall and his legs out straight. His feet hung slightly off of the edge of the bed.

Keith's bed was unlike Lance's own bed in that it was littered with various pillows and had numerous blankets. It was also unlike Lance's bed in that Keith made an effort to hide his teddy bear, and Lance didn't. Lance chuckled, humoring Keith by tucking the plaything further out of sight. Lance preferred having one pillow and one blanket, and he left his ancient plush dinosaur in plain sight in an attempt to assuage Keith's embarrassment at having a comfort animal, but to no avail. He plucked one of the pillows from Keith's end of the bed and propped it behind his back, aware that he was going to be there for a while. He then placed another on his lap, and rested his elbows on it, reading the preface to the novel as he waited for Keith to come back.

Keith returned a few minutes later. He closed the door quietly behind him, and slunk into the room. He swore a few times as he bumped into various objects and tripped over scattered clothing. Eventually, he climbed up onto the bed, and sat facing with his knees drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. He looked extremely uncomfortable, both physically and socially

"You should lie down," Lance suggested again.

Keith's expression was lost to darkness when Lance's booklight flickered off again, but his response was clear. "Yeah, yeah it's good for my head or whatever."

Lance fiddled with the booklight, feeling Keith shift in the space next to him. Lance was just beginning to firmly attach the contraption to the book when suddenly, a warm, heavy weight descended into his lap. He stiffened, his cheeks growing warm when he realized that Keith had laid his head onto the pillow in his lap. Despite his common sense telling him that it was the darkness and therefore a lack of visual reference that made Keith lay down in such a position, Lance couldn't help but feel pleasantly surprised that Keith trusted him enough to even let him on his bed, let alone this. Lance relaxed, trying his very hardest not to move so that he could savor this moment while it lasted.

"'M ready." Keith said just as Lance got the light to work again.

"Alright. Do you remember what happened so far?" Lance asked, gazing at the head of black hair in his lap. It took a shocking amount of control to suffocate the impulse to pet Keith's messy locks into something much more presentable.

"Yeah." Keith mumbled, curling one hand on the edge of the pillow and nestling closer. The quaver in Lance's stomach thrashed, tingling so much that it almost hurt. Lance was slightly distracted when he continued to read where they had left off. He tried to ignore how happy he was beginning to feel, how the inexplicable desire to aid in his chest purred with happiness now that Keith was settling down (it was taking him a little while to fully relax. He was still a little tense, and he kept squirming, as if trying to get more comfortable). It was foolish, how much Lance was analyzing the situation, but he soon discovered that he didn't want to deny how complacent he now felt, reading to Keith in a calm voice, the room peacefully silent save for his voice and Keith's breathing.

Soon, Lance got lost in the reading, becoming more and more immersed in the book. He became so enthralled with the reading that he forgot his promise to himself not to move; unconsciously, he shifted his legs as he felt himself sliding further and further down the wall.

Keith, whose eyes had been falling shut at the soothing tones of Lance's voice, tensed when he felt his pillow moving beneath him. His heart leapt into his throat when he quickly jumped to the conclusion that he was lying in Lance's lap. He cursed himself, ugly, throbbing embarrassment tightening in his lungs. Why hadn't Lance said anything? And why hadn't Keith himself lay down at the head of his bed, like a normal person? Lance stopped reading, and Keith knew that Lance had sensed his discomfort. Now, he couldn't use the excuse that he didn't realize he was in Lance's lap. Fuck.

"S-Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't...I didn't realize..." Keith muttered, quickly propping himself up with his elbow. He was about to turn around and curl up into the tightest ball of shame when a hurried hand gripped his shoulder, pushing down firmly yet gently.

"No, it's...you're fine," Lance murmured quietly above him, his tone unsure but also somewhat...pleading, "I don't mind."

Keith hesitated. "You...You're sure?" he breathed, his tone hopeful.

"Yeah," came Lance's firm response. As Keith allowed himself to be eased down by Lance's pressing hand, Lance cleared his throat. "I was... It was kinda nice, in fact."

Keith's face flushed as he curled back into his previous position. "You...You did?" he croaked out, hardly believing his ears.

"Yes." Lance replied simply.

"Oh."

There was a moment of thick silence. Neither knew what to say.

Keith sighed, and sat up. Lance's hand reluctantly moved away, and he could hear Lance take a breath so he could speak, but no response came when Lance saw that Keith was reaching for his pillow. Lance respectfully pretended to be focused on fiddling with his booklight when Keith furtively snatched his ratty teddy bear. Keith plopped the second pillow in Lance's lap, and quickly settled down, the teddy bear disappearing as it was lost to the shadows of Keith's arms. Keith lay back down, facing the center of the room, and let out a contented sigh. Lance let out a happy hum when he felt Keith snuggle minutely closer, his hand curling around Lance's knee.

Keith closed his eyes once more as Lance cleared his throat and resumed reading. A small smile played on his lips. He could feel the painkillers starting to do their work; the pain in his head was slowly subsiding. He suddenly felt very warm, both emotionally and physically. Lance had rested his hand on Keith's shoulder again, and Keith's chest ached with a sore happiness when Lance's thumb seemingly unconsciously began to rub back and forth, stroking methodically and soothingly.

Keith could feel his anxieties and loneliness begin to drain away; he knew Lance would help him get his work done on time, and Lance's reassuring warmth and calm, welcoming presence made him feel less and less alone. He heard Lance's stomach gurgle and burble as he digested, and he felt the rich vibrations of Lance's voice as he leaned his head back into Lance's soft stomach. Hazily, he realized that he was going to soon fall asleep, and he fought to keep his eyes open. But Lance's voice was so sonorous, and the room was so warm...

"That's the end of tablet one," Lance murmured, gently squeezing Keith's shoulder, "Do you want me to continue or do you wish to try and answer the questions pertaining to this tablet?"

Lance smiled when he heard Keith burble sleepily. "...No, please keep going..." he mumbled, nestling closer and pressing his head further against Lance's stomach, his fingers curling. Lance's heart warmed, and he patted Keith's shoulder before switching which hand held the book. His arm was getting tired. His right hand now filled with book, he daringly rested his left on Keith's head. He touched with feather light strokes, merely brushing the hair flat. He couldn't help himself; he had been completely right in assuming that Keith's hair was soft and fluffy. He smiled fondly when Keith hummed sleepily, and seemed to completely melt under the touch.

"Keep going..." Keith mumbled, and for a moment, Lance wasn't sure if he was talking about the stroking or the reading. He continued both.

Keith was now extremely glad that Lance had offered to help. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a very long time. He squeezed his bear to his chest and nestled deeper into the pillows. Mounds of tension he didn't know he was holding completely dissipated when he felt Lance's tentative fingers curl into his hair. His breathing was calm, and he suddenly didn't care what time it was. He wished that this session would go on for forever, Lance reading in his deep, soothing voice, Keith surrounded by warmth. Here, no one expected anything of him. Here, in the dark and the warmth, he could relax. His eyes fluttered shut under the careful carding of Lance's fingers through his hair, and despite his now faint misgivings, he began to ignore what Lance was saying, losing himself instead to the many soothing stimulations around him.

Meanwhile, Lance was completely unaware that Keith was falling asleep. In fact, he was completely oblivious to everything, far too focused on reading and stroking to pay attention to the slowing and deepening of Keith's breath and his lack of movement. He was so comfortable; the blankets were soft and warm beneath him, and Keith was a calming weight on his lap. He blinked heavily when he felt the charms of the night getting to him; more than once he had to pause and yawn. He was sinking lower and lower, and his head was veering slightly sideways as he read.

Too soon, he reached the end of the second tablet, and he had to stop and shake Keith to ask him whether or not he wanted to stop and start the quiz. He was pleasantly surprised when Keith groaned pathetically, and stubbornly curled closer, his arms wrapping around Lance's leg.

"Noo..." he whimpered, "Keep reading...Voice so nice..."

Lance smiled, his cheeks tinting. As he tried to respond to Keith's compliment, he yawned, and he decided instead to squint at the clock on Keith's laptop; he was startled to see that it was now quarter after eleven.

Through his yawn, he said "You better not be falling asleep; we still have to take the quiz and I need you awake to do that."

Keith mumbled something incoherent and yawned.

Lance shrugged to himself, and cleared his throat as he continued to read, blinking heavily. He really wished he could get up and drink some water, but he wouldn't dare move and disturb Keith. He plowed on, his voice growing more and more raspy until he could stand it no more and he reached for Keith's water bottle. Keith didn't even shift when Lance leaned forward, grabbing the bottle with the tips of his fingers. Lance hastily gulped the water, and continued reading.

When Lance finished the final tablet ten minutes later, Keith was a dead weight in his lap. He shook Keith gently, murmuring his name softly. Keith, a heavy sleeper, did not move. Lance listened fondly as Keith's breaths whistled as he inhaled and exhaled in a deep rhythm. His arm was loose around Lance's legs, and Lance could feel every breath he took. For several moments, Lance merely stroked Keith's hair. He was faced with a conundrum; Keith's quiz was due in roughly thirty-five minutes, but he was also currently having one of the most peaceful sleeps Lance had ever seen him have. And Lance didn't want him to move. Though he hated to admit it, he absolutely adored having Keith trust him so much, he loved the closeness, he loved making sure that Keith felt safe. He just couldn't wake him up.

He made up his mind. Carefully, he put down the book and detached the booklight. He dragged Keith's laptop closer to himself and woke it back up. Taking great pains not to move too much, he typed in answers to the quiz ('why is it important for Gilgamesh to have an equal? How is Gilgamesh hurting the future of his city by claiming divine right to all of the brides-to-be?'). His eyes were growing heavier and heavier the longer he typed, but he forced himself to stay awake long enough to ensure that his- or rather, Keith's- responses were well worded and correct. With ten minutes to spare, Lance finished the quiz and submitted it under Keith's name.

He let out a gusty sigh, and switched the laptop off, the room now bathed in complete darkness. He leaned his head back against the wall and allowed his eyes to adjust to the faint moonlight filtering in from the window. Lance blinked slowly and savored his surroundings. The faint tick of his clock, the gentle hush of warm air from the vents, and the hubbub of voices that were heard in a college dormitory filled his ears. He smiled softly, listening to the gentle sounds while absently petting Keith's hair like he would a cat. He reached over, and gently pulled the blanket that was loosely tangled around Keith's legs up to his shoulder, clumsily tucking it around his sleeping form with one hand. Keith shifted slightly, and Lance's right hand came to rest on Keith's warm side. Keith stilled immediately, burbling softly to himself.

Lance certainly did not plan to for his eyes to slowly fall closed as he methodically stroked Keith's hair. He certainly did not intend for the soothing warmth all around him to cause him to yawn, his train of thought gradually slowing down as his head began to loll to the side. And he simply did not recall pulling Keith closer to himself as he sank further down the wall, Keith's head now resting on his stomach.

But sometimes, one simply cannot stick to the plan.

The slightly hungover and affection hungry Hunk that opened the door to Lance and Keith's dorm the next morning around nine was extremely startled. He opened the door quietly, aware that Keith would probably be sleeping (Keith liked to sleep late on the weekends). He did not expect, however, to find Keith and Lance fast asleep on Keith's bed, surrounded by pillows and various objects like a dead laptop, a book, and a discarded teddy bear. Lance had his chin resting on his chest, his glasses skewed, and his hands wrapped loosely around Keith's back and arm. Hunk nearly squealed when he saw that Keith was deep in sleep, his arms curled around Lance's waist, his cheek resting on Lance's stomach. They were a soft pile of limbs, completely still save for the gentle rise and fall of their chests as they breathed. The only sounds were their faint snoring and the squeal Hunk was trying to smother behind the hands he had clasped to his mouth. He decided to snap a picture (not for blackmailing or anything, no, certainly not), and quickly take his leave. It was too cute for him to handle.

Keith was the first to wake up. He had opened his eyes when, as he had pulled his pillow closer to himself, it had gurgled slightly and made a sleepy noise. He blinked in confusion, and, with a jolt of realization, he completely froze. Slowly, the blood draining from his face, he lifted his head and saw Lance sleeping peacefully above him. His glasses were crooked and slipping down his nose, and his mouth was slightly ajar as he faintly snored. Keith found the embarrassment coiling in his stomach quickly vanished, to be replaced by a new affection. He realized that he must have fallen asleep before Lance, and that Lance had stayed with him the entire night. Lance could have easily woken him up so that he may return to his bed so that he may sleep comfortably, but here he was, sound asleep with his arms wrapped around Keith. Keith grinned, not wanting to move.

Keith was about to bury his face into Lance's abdomen again when suddenly cold, twisting fear stabbed at his insides. His quiz! He hadn't taken his quiz, he knew he didn't take it. He cursed himself and uncoiled his arm from Lance's waist to smack himself. He felt the hollow ache of his stomach welling up into his throat, his fingers and nose starting to tingle as his breathing grew faster and shallower, his thoughts racing-

"Mmm?" Lance hummed suddenly, his voice caked with sleep. Keith froze, and looked up. Lance was blinking thickly, and he winced as he lifted his head. Keith watched, completely unsure as to what to do as Lance sleepily looked around. Lance lifted his arms above his head and stretched, groaning with satisfaction as his spine popped. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and seemed to realize where he was when Keith shifted slightly, for he looked down. His tired eyes met Keith's gaze, and he smiled. Keith was completely taken aback when Lance stroked a hand through his hair, the touch featherlight and pleasant. Keith's eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, and he sighed with pleasure.

"G'mornin," Lance croaked a few moments later, resting one hand in Keith's hair, the other coming to rest on his arm.

"Morning," Keith responded.

"Mmm... are you feeling any better?" Lance murmured, his expression curiously soft.

Keith groaned, and stretched his legs. "Physical, yeah...emotional not so much," He responded, somewhat reluctantly.

"Oh?"

"I didn't get to take my quiz after all," Keith responded bluntly.

Lance chuffed quietly. "I wouldn't say that."

Keith rested his cheek against Lance's stomach, straining to keep eye contact. "Whaddya mean?"

Lance's fingers curled lightly in his hair. "It looks like you didn't need to slide me a twenty after all. I did it for free."

Keith blinked, realizing what Lance was saying. "...You took it for me?"

Lance nodded, grinning at Keith's incredulous look. "You had fallen asleep around halfway through the third tablet, probably even earlier, and I...I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. Even though I was gonna have you take the quiz so that you would be prepared for your class, I knew that you needed that grade to... shoot your anxiety in the head, so to speak. So I took the quiz for you."

Keith blinked, and felt a sting at the corner of his eyes. His mouth fumbled wordlessly. Soundlessly, he wrapped his arms around Lance's waist and squeezed, burying his face into the soft fabric of Lance's sweater.

"...Thanks," he mumbled.

Lance chuckled. "Don't think you've gotten off that easily. I took a screenshot of the questions, and I'm gonna make you answer them yourself."

Keith groaned. "I was just starting to think that maybe you're not that bad of a guy," he whined.

Lance smiled, and ruffled Keith's hair. "Sorry, Keith. I'm an advocate for academic integrity."

"Since when?"

"I always have been, Keith. I'm wounded."

Stiffly, Keith propped himself, leveraging himself with his hands on the mattress. He had a serious case of bedhead (or was it lap-head?), but he looked refreshed. He squinted at Lance, his face slowly starting to blush.

Keith's eyes skittered away, and he rubbed his neck as he said "How about instead of using that twenty to pay you to do my work, I use it to...to take you to breakfast?"

Keith's stomach dropped when his words were met with radio silence. He peered furtively at Lance, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his throat. Instantly, he regretted all of his life choices. However, when he caught Lance's eye, he saw a blush forming on Lance's cheeks. He had never seen Lance flustered before. Was he really flustered, or was he blushing because this was awkward and crossing far too many lines? Oh, god, what if Lance was straight?

"Are you asking me...Are you asking me to go out with-?" Lance spluttered.

"Yeah," Keith said hurriedly, miserably waiting for his offer to be rejected.

The few seconds of silence seemed like eons of judgment and pity to Keith.

Eventually, however, Lance spoke, and Keith shrank in on himself.

"...I think that that would...that would be a good way to spend your money," Lance said softly, firmly seeking Keith's eyes, "...and that I'd enjoy it. Very much."

Keith swallowed thickly, his heart soaring. "You would?!" he gasped, his voice rising in pitch. He clapped his hand to his mouth, and rubbed it as he fought down a smile as Lance chuckled softly.

"Yeah," Lance murmured warmly.

They grinned at each other, both flushing, looking each other up and down. They saw each other in a different light. Eventually, they became so embarrassed at their situation that they both scurried off of the bed and set about getting ready for the day, Keith grabbing his supplies for the shower and shooting out of the room and Lance desperately trying to figure out just what clothes to wear on his breakfast date with Keith.

As Keith stood beneath the warm spray of water minutes later, he sighed a shaky sigh of ecstasy. Breakfast date with Lance. He could hardly believe it.

Keith had never been happier about getting a migraine in his life.


	22. wings and horns and other dangerous entities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in a world of magic and monsters, there's evil lurking in the shadows. sirens have been mangled and murdered, their throats ripped out by the ones who call themselves silencers, to sell on the black market. now, one's in Lance's school.
> 
> just fucking great.

"Go back to Bulsa, mutt."

Keith was slammed against the lockers. He grunted and slid down to the floor, gasping for air. He blinked and coughed. It looked like he couldn't breathe. It looked like he was passing out. But I knew that he wasn't going to. Not then, anyway. He looked up at his attackers- Lotor and his posse of those mean, rough girls.   
I stood behind a wall, peeking over and watching everything play out. Despite his lack of acknowledgment, I knew that he was aware of my presence. He knew I was there. He was just trying to keep me safe. I felt really bad, actually. I wish I could've helped, but I didn't know how.

I'd always been the one bullied. Picked on by Lotor, hurt by Lotor- and then Keith came along. For some reason, the kid would always pick fights with the white-haired elf so he wouldn't get to me, then would walk away before I could thank him. He wasn't my friend- I doubted he even wanted to be. And that was the only time I ever really got to see him, anyway. It was weird. He'd sometimes give me these looks in the hallways- those beautiful multi-chrome eyes of his- and I'd get chills down my spine. I didn't even know what he was. He seemed regal and untouchable- like a god. But even then, he wore the most grungy clothing you'd ever seen and acted so recklessly, so rashly, that you'd think that he came from the Imp's slums. Not that I'd ever tell him that! No, he scared me too much for me to make comments like that.   
Anyway, it's not like he was defending someone he didn't know. I've known Keith for years, actually. He came to this school the same year I did, even though he was a year younger than me, but we never really interacted other than asking for a pencil in some classes. Then Lotor, the older, hotter, stronger bully, showed up and started hitting on me. When I refused, he started bullying me. And then, out of the blue, Keith started taking my punches. And he didn't even say anything about it, either. He would take them and expect nothing in return- not even a 'thank you' or an 'I'm sorry'. Seeing him on the floor like that broke my heart, making me feel worse than when I broke my mom's favorite vase that one time.  
I can't imagine what made him take those punches for me. We were barely more than acquaintances, and there he was, on the floor in my place. But, seeing him in other situations, he was a spitfire. A laid-back one, but a spitfire no less. That brought me to thinking- what exactly was Keith? Lotor always called him a mutt, but that didn't seem to be it. His mannerisms were all off, foreign.

I thought that he may have been a dragon. I know, I know. They're super rare, and it's doubtful that you'd ever really find one outside of a forest or mountain seeing as they've gone into hiding after the war, but his mannerisms seemed very dragon-y. Though he didn't have claws or those huge, tell-tale wings, he had horns that sprouted from his scalp and curled neatly over that long, usually braided, inky black hair. He would hiss and growl and bare his sharp fangs- sharper than any sword I'd ever seen. I have read before that not all dragons have wings or tails- that they just kind of get them when they morph out of their human form and lose them when they morph back. Or I've also read that they can just sprout tails and wings when they needed to fly but didn't have the energy or motivation to transform fully.   
Anyway, he was, in any case, the scariest person I've ever come across. And yet, without saying a word to me, he would take punches that were meant for me and provoke Lotor enough so that those punches were turned onto him. And it didn't help that dragons were frowned upon in the magicking community after that war that we started against them.  
"Had enough yet, scum?" Lotor said. he gave Keith a swift kick and chortled, walking away with his gang.   
"See you tomorrow." He said. He spared me a quick glance and winked, giving me a grin as he walked past me. I waited for a moment, then rushed over to Keith, trying to help him up.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, here, let m-"

"It's nothing, Selkie." He growled. He looked up at me. There was fire in his eyes, and one of them was bruised as all hell. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.  
"I'm not a..." He stood and wobbled for a moment, sighing and scrunching his face slightly in pain. He gave me a look, effectively shutting me up, and walked out of the school without saying another word.  
"I'm a siren," I sighed.

In case you, the reader, are confused, our world is a little different from yours. Our world is one in which humans existed long before us- they evolved into what we are today, and now we have abilities and powers that we named based off of humans' ancient lore. And despite our mega-evolution, we still have the same customs as those humans. Like high-schools and religion. The only difference is that none of us are, well, human.   
I watched as he stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket and left the building, shivering in November's chill. The sun was beginning to set as he went, and I knew that curfew was soon. So why was he leaving the building? He could just use the Teledove to get to his room, right? Unless... if I was right about the whole dragon thing (and that's a major if), I've heard that dragons weren't able to use Teledoves because their own magic rejected it. But I've still got no idea what he is, so I can't really do much research.

"Lance!" I heard a voice and looked around. Pidge? Where was she? "Up here, you dimwit." I looked up to see a small songbird atop the lockers. It flew down and shifted back into Pidge, the super-smart druid witch who attended this school and also happened to be my roommate. She gave me a half-sneer then looked out after Keith. "What's with him? He always takes those bullets for you- what's the deal?"

I shrugged and sighed. I knew Keith lived somewhere on campus, but I wasn't sure where. I'd heard rumors that he lived in that old, abandoned tower in the corner of the courtyard, but I dismissed the thought since I knew that no-one had lived there in years. And why would Keith stay there if they had free room and board for the regular dorms? It didn't add up.   
"I have no clue. He won't even talk to me," I said.

"That's rough, buddy."

"Yeah. Should I try?"  
Pidge hummed at my question.   
"To talk to him? I don't know. I don't even know the guy," She mused. I huffed and looked outside.   
"Y'know what? I'm just gonna go back to the dorm," I said, putting my hand on my hip and giving Pidge a grin. "Wanna come?"

"Sure. Got nothing better to do."

"Okay. Let's go."

\---

I woke up at three a.m. to some loud knocking at my door. That didn't stop. I groaned and sat up, just trying to get my bearings for a second. The knocking persisted, and I yawned, standing. Who the fuck was even up? And why were they knocking at my fucking door? Ugh. I stumbled over to the door and put my hand on the knob, twisting it. I stopped when I heard heavy panting on the other side of the door. Were they okay? Who was it, anyway? I sighed anxiously and opened the door.

Inky black hair, unbraided and messy. Too-pale skin, a flush covering his cheeks. And two long horns that curled over his scalp- Keith? Keith was at my fucking door? Why?  
"Keith?" I murmured, not actually meaning to say his name. He looked up at me, leaning on the threshold, his eyes fogged over. He stumbled forward, grabbing my forearms and looking me in the eye with a distant urgency. "Keith? What are you doing here? What's wrong?" I noted in the back of my mind that he was somewhat shorter than me, but I stuck that in the archives to think about later.

"L-La-ance..." He choked out my name before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped forward into my arms. I yelped and caught him. He was too warm. What the hell?

I stood there for a minute trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing but realized that standing in the hallway wouldn't do either of us any good. I half-dragged him into my dorm room and laid him on the couch. He was panting still, his breathing hot and heavy. He seemed... sick, maybe? But not sick in the way I knew. It was more like- Oh! It was like when someone depleted their magic too much! Maybe that's what it was.  
I stood. If that was the case, then it's good to have a witch-class druid in the room. I walked over to Pidge's bed and shook her awake. She grumbled and turned on her side, ignoring my prods and pokes. I frowned and shook her again, relieved to see her open her eyes.  
"The fuck do you want, Lance?" She hissed, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"I need your help. Get up."

"Right now? Lance," She mumbled, groaning and rubbing her eyes, sitting up and yawning widely. She looked at the alarm clock next to her bed. "It's three o' fuckin' clock in the morning."

"I know, I'm sorry. Just come on. I need you."

She stood and stopped, listening. "Wait. Is there someone else in here, Lance?"

"Yes! That's why I need you! Com'on!"

I grabbed her arm and dragged her to the couch, where Keith still laid. Her eyes widened and she looked at me incredulously. "Is that Keith? Why's Keith here?"

"I dunno! Just help me heal him. He's sick, or something."

She walked over to the end of the couch, where Keith's head sat on the armrest of the couch, and kneeled in front of it, raising her hands. She closed her eyes, a soft green glow coming from her fingertips. I sighed. I knew she could help.   
Her eyes opened again and she put her finger to her lip in thought. "He's not sick... this isn't due to magic depletion either... it's almost as if... no, it couldn't be. Could it?"

"Couldn't be what?" I asked. She didn't look at me; she stayed with her thoughtful gaze to Keith's face, analyzing the situation. After a moment, she seemed to come to a conclusion and stood, sighing.   
"Lance, I need you to leave the room," She said quietly, sparing me a glance. 

"What?" I exclaimed, louder than I'd intended to. "Why?"   
Keith winced at my loudness and made a small noise of pain, drawing my attention.

"That's why. Now go." She pointed down outside of the dorm and I huffed. 

"Sorry. I can be quieter. It's my room too, and he said my name before he passed out. It's only fair that I get to be here too."

Pidge thought for a moment then sighed. "Fine. But one peep out of you and you're dead. This is a very delicate procedure and both I and Keith and need complete silence. Got it?"  
I nodded and made the 'zip my lips' motion. She sent me a scrutinous gaze and shook her head, pointing to the chair adjacent to the couch. I sat down quickly and watched her work.

She walked over to her bed and took off her shoes, putting on her spell rings and walking back. She tied her hair into a small half-ponytail and clasped her hands. They seemed to be shaking- was she scared? Cold? Tired? I wanted to ask, but when I took a breath to speak she sent me a glare. I kept my mouth shut. She exhaled slowly and raised her hands. She allowed that soft glow from her fingertips become harsher, spreading to the rest of her palm. She closed her eyes. And placed her hands over Keith's chest.   
"Purga animam," She murmured the beginnings of a spell. I could tell she was trying to keep her voice low, probably for Keith's sake. I wondered what she was doing. "Faciat quicquam noceat malorum."

She drew a deep breath. "Sana," She whispered. Keith was suddenly enveloped in the green glow for just a moment and then the green was gone. Pidge stepped away and sighed, stretching and looking at me. She seemed tired. Then again, it was three a.m. and she did just perform what looked like a heavy spell on Keith.

"He's fine. He'll wake up in a few minutes," She said. I stood as quickly as I'd sat down and walked over to where she was next to Keith.

"Do you know how this happened? Was he injured? Was he sick, after all?" I asked eagerly. She gave me an annoyed glare and I shut up.

"I know how this happened, but this isn't my story to tell. It's his. All I can say is that something that's routine for us isn't for him, and doing that thing can cause him harm."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Can't tell you. Sorry."

I sighed and crossed my arms. She walked over and sat heavily on the chair I'd been sitting on. I looked at her, but she was watching Keith with a conflicted gaze. I blinked. What could she have found out that gave her such mixed emotions? I heard a soft groan and I turned back around. Keith was blinking his eyes open. He started to sit up and I kneeled in front of him, like Pidge did, helping him to get into a comfortable position. He coughed into his fist and looked around.

"Wh-Where...?" He rasped. His eyes suddenly widened and he shot upright. "Shit. Shit, gotta find Lance-"

"I'm right here," I said confusedly. His head shot in my direction and he sighed in relief. "What's wrong?"

"Lance, you need to get outta here," He said. That same urgency from earlier flooded his voice in an instant and I blinked.   
"What?" I asked, not really registering what he said.

"You- Ugh. Just- Just come with me!" He grabbed my forearm and stood, but swayed and ended up falling into me again.

"You shouldn't stand yet, Keith," Pidge said. Her tone sounded somewhat bored, and I looked at her oddly.  
Keith pushed off of me and tried to walk a couple steps, but stumbled forward against the wall. He swore in a garbled language I'd never heard and leaned heavily on the wall, looking back to me. "We c-can't afford... we can't afford to waste time. Come on," He said to me, and I just stood there, confused.

"Keith, you're gonna pass out again if you keep trying to do shit right now. Sit the fuck down." Pidge stood and grabbed Keith's arm, dragging him as he staggered forward and sitting him down on the couch again. "You won't be able to walk right for a couple of hours. You need to rest. Or at least to relax. Just chill."

"We don't have time to rest- ahh-" He exclaimed breathily and cradled his side. I looked immediately to see if there was an injury, but Pidge put a hand on my shoulder. 

"Pain in your liver is a side-effect of... what you did. It's still trying to flush out the t- uhh y'know."

Keith looked up at her grimly and sighed, taking his hand away from his belly. "Okay. Do you both know?"

"If Lance knew, would I have censored my speech?" She shot back calmly. Keith narrowed his eyes at her.

"I guess not, but they're always listening in on these rooms. I figured it was because of that."

"Hmm. Yeah, you're right. Are you gonna tell him?"

"Yes. I need something from him, and if he didn't know it could pose a problem."

"Then I suggest not doing it in here."

"Agreed."

I stood, getting both of their attention. "Can you please stop talking about me when I'm right in front of your fucking faces? You guys have told me nothing tonight. What can't you tell me in here? I want to know!"  
I knew I was acting somewhat childish, but I couldn't help it. I felt excluded from something way too important to be excluded from.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Help me out of this building and I'll tell you," He said. His grey- no, slate -eyes burned with wiseness beyond his years. I swallowed hard. Would I get a taste of that? That knowledge- not even knowledge. It wasn't just knowledge in his brain. What was it? And would I get to see it?   
I was shaken from my reverie when Pidge nudged me. I swallowed again and, despite Keith's indignant protests, gathered the younger teen onto my back and followed Pidge out of the room. We crept downstairs and went outside, looking around. There was sometimes a patrol out, and while he doesn't usually care if a student leaves their dorms just to take a short walk, he probably wouldn't take kindly to three sneaking out to tell secrets. So we were trying to keep a low profile.  
We walked to a place that Pidge knew wasn't ever patrolled and sat on a bench. I put Keith down gently and noted, like his height, that he had a small blush coating his cheeks, from embarrassment or something else I didn't know. Pidge sat down too, and I stood. 

"So what is it you want to tell me?" I asked matter-of-factly.

Keith sighed in annoyance- he and Pidge would get along quite well -and looked at me. "I'm half-dragon."

"I knew it!" I said, pointing at him. He seemed taken aback by my blatant happiness and I reeled it in. "I mean- I've known since I met you."

"How?"

"I dunno. A hunch, maybe," I said proudly, crossing my arms and smirking. Then I remembered. "Wait, is the reason you were so sick earlier because you used the Teledove?"

He flushed- this time I knew it was because of embarrassment -and nodded curtly. "It fucks with my magic, and I haven't used one in so long that I forgot what it was like. I thought I'd be fine. Sorry about that."

"It's fine, but you shouldn't be so reckless! If you were fully dragonian then it would've been a matter of life or death."

"Yeah, yeah."

There was silence for a moment, then I realized something. He was only half dragon. "What's the other half?" I asked out of the blue. He looked up at me.   
"What?"

"If you're only half dragon, then what's the other half? Half-dragon half-what?"

"I- uh... I'm half-human." He mumbled embarrassedly. My eyes widened.

"What?!" I exclaimed. Pidge shushed me and I mocked her for a moment. "Wait, wait- wait, that must mean- but you're... you're not a-"

"Galra. I'm galra."

I swallowed hard and looked at him in a new light. A galra. A fucking galra. God, what had I gotten myself into?

"You do realize," She said to me. "That I was hiding that from you and not the dragon thing, right? Because this would be your fucking reaction! Quiet the fuck down!"

"Got it, got it. But Keith," I addressed him again, trying to think rationally- god, he was a galra. "Humans went extinct like, thirty years ago, right?"

"You thought so," He began, "But my mother's mom escaped from where the humans were being killed. She was pregnant at the time and had my mom in a forest. My grandmother died in labor, but my mother was found by some dragons, who took her in and raised her. When she was old enough, she found a mate and had me. But a couple of years ago-" He cut off, grimacing. He took a deep breath and continued. "A couple of years ago, our cave was found and my entire family, my mom, my dad, the dragons that had raised them and me, were killed. But I got away and ran. I was found later by those same hunters, but they didn't see me as a dragon. They saw me as a mutt. Some amalgamation of spare monster parts. So they took me here."

There was silence when he finished. I was awe-struck. So... humans weren't extinct, but they went extinct a couple years ago when Keith's family died? And they didn't go extinct naturally- they were killed off by their successors? And Keith was galra?! This was too much for me to take in. I sat on the ground in front of Keith and looked at him with shock. He looked away from me, but I swore I could see tears shining in his eyes. Maybe it was just my imagination.

"That's fucked up, man," Pidge commented softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. No big deal," he said. He discreetly wiped his eyes and looked back at me. "But my coming here isn't about me, which I'm sure you know by now." He met my gaze. "Lance, you're in a fuck ton of danger right now."

"What?" I felt like I'd been saying that way too much that night. "What do you mean, 'danger'?"

"There are people who are after sirens for their voices- you didn't know this already? I'm sure you heard on the news that sirens have been disappearing from their jobs and homes and schools, right?"   
He's right. I have heard about it on the news- but I didn't think it would hit me personally. And still, in this madness, I couldn't help but think, 'hey, he really does know that I'm not a selkie'. How vain of me. I nodded.

"There are only a couple sirens at VMA full-time, like you and that one girl in my chem class, but that means you're even more valuable. The kidnappers call themselves Silencers, and they are ruthless. You should probably get out of here while you still can, Lance. I was trying to get out you out of here tonight like I did that girl, but the Teledove thing happened and one thing lead to another and-"

"Dude. Chill," I said to him, even though I was still reeling with the fact that he was a galra. He shot me an incredulous look.

"Chill? You're telling me to chill when you could be kidnapped or murdered? What the fuck, Lance!"

"Yeah, that's right. Chill. Now that I know about it, I can keep my guard up. I won't be so lax around everyone now. It'll be fine."

"Are you kidding me?! Lance, you need to-"

"I can't leave. I've got homework and finals to study for- I can't leave right now. there's too much for me to do."

"That pales in comparison to getting your vocal cords ripped out, Lance."

"Okay, yeah, but if I know that something's coming, I won't trust everyone anymore."

"God damn it- Lance, I'm trying to sneak you out of here! Do you not care about your life? You could fucking die, Lance!"

"Dude! Chill!"

Keith groaned in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "Lance, I'm trying to get you out of here so you don't get killed. What part of that don't you understand?"

"You little-!"

Pidge stood, garnering both of our eyes. "Shut up, both of you!" We did so.

"Keith, you're not going to change Lance's mind so easily. He's too stubborn, and I know you are too, but I also know that you're more rational than this. Think about it- is it really worth arguing with him when you know that instead, you could be making shit safer? Don't waste precious time on this bullshit," She said to him. She turned to me and I swallowed. "Lance, you need to allow Keith some leeway with this. He obviously knows more than you, so let him do what he wishes when it involves keeping you safe. You're not leaving, and we know this, so focus on keeping your guard up. Got it, both of you?"

We both nodded. Pidge was fuckin' scary. She crossed her arms. "Alright then. Well, it's three-thirty a.m. in the morning at the moment and I'd like to get some sleep before my six a.m. class tomorrow. Lance, pick Keith up and let's go to our dorms. And before you say anything, Keith, you're not taking the Teledove back to yours and we're not walking you there. Just stay in ours."

Both of us nodded again and did as she said. I gathered Keith on my back and followed Pidge. We walked towards the dorm building and hid from the patrol as he passed us, but other than that the walk back was uneventful. We got inside and padded up the stairs, entering our dorm quietly. I sat him on the couch and he thanked me quietly, watching me as I went back to my bed. He laid down as I did and I think he was the first to fall asleep, seeing as Pidge went to the bathroom to wash up and I stayed awake until she finished.

Pidge and I talked in hushed tones that night until I fell into a sleep that was restless and filled with disturbing, but not quite scary dreams.

\---

I awoke to wonder why Keith even cared that I was going to die. I sat up, hissing against a slight headache, and looked around. Back in my dorm. I wondered for a moment if the night before was a dream, but it was validated when I heard soft snores from the couch. Keith was still asleep, I saw. It was still dark outside, anyway. Wait, it was still dark outside. Where was Pidge? I looked around again, seeing a note stuck to my alarm clock.   
'Left to hang with Allura. Neither of us could sleep. See you today after class.'

I hummed and crumpled up the note, looking at the time. 4 am- the sun would be rising soon. If I was up, I might as well go down onto the beach to see it. I sat up, stretched, and threw the note out. I shrugged on my sweatshirt and, after a couple seconds of debating, grabbed my ukelele. If no-one was out there, it would be fine. Then, halfway through the door to leave, Keith's warning touched my mind. I bit my lip and looked back at him- sleeping just about as restlessly as I had been, but this time I saw a book laying face-down on his stomach. I tiptoed over and picked it up out of sheer curiosity, seeing spells written in a different language. Probably Latin. One, I recognized, though- a forbidden spell that we were taught never to even look up. I screwed my face up in disapproval. If anyone were to read this, it would be Keith. Typical.  
I sighed, putting the book down and walking over to the door to slide my flip-flops on. Disregarding my previous thoughts about the book, I figured that if anyone out there tried to subdue me, I would just sing or something. I had a bit of combat training anyway, so I would be fine.

I took off my flip-flops as I walked onto the beach, and it was at times like these I was glad that our school was right near such a big salt-water lake. It had that smell to it that reminded me of the ocean. It was calming, listening to the small waves lap the shore.   
I sat down and dug my toes in the sand, picking up my ukelele and lying back, looking at the stars as I strummed a couple of notes.   
I hummed along to a random melody, playing some melancholy chords and closing my eyes.  
"Baby... dance with me and I'll sing to you... we can tiptoe around the room... silent symphonies..." lyrics flowed from my throat, never been spoken before, and he sighed.   
"Baby... we won't care about the news... it don't gotta be confusin'... silent symphonies..."

"Light's out, gettin' the feelin', feeling my heart beatin' twice the speed it should be speedin'... hmm oh oh..." I hummed a little more, seeing some light peeking through my eyelids. "Baby, dance with me and I'll sing to you, we can tiptoe around the room, silent symphonies... baby, we won't care about the future, we can stay here in our stupor- in silent symphonies... hm hmm da da..." A soft song, leaving my lips almost involuntarily, was accompanied by that siren vocal magic that hung so heavily in the air that I could almost smell it. I sighed and hummed a couple more chords.

"Lance?" I heard a nearly slurred voice behind me and shut up quickly, turning around with wide eyes. Keith stood there, half-dazed and stumbling, and I gasped. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.   
"Keith!" I stood, discarding my ukelele and running over to him. He furrowed his brows, trying to unscramble his head, taking a step back. I put my hands on his shoulders and guided him to where I was laying previously, sitting him down on the near-damp sand. "I'm so sorry, god, I'm so so so sorry, it's gonna take a hot minute for the magic to wear off, oh god, I'm sorry-"

"Shut up..." Keith mumbled, putting his fingers to his temples. "My headache's coming back." I sighed. That was a good sign- not the headache, but the fact that it was returning. A real quick rundown- all sirens have different properties to their voices along with the typical 'dazed, confused and drowsy' aspect. Mine can lessen or completely eradicate someone's pain, and if I try hard enough, I can begin to heal wounds. The pain part is only an illusion though. They're still hurt. So if I sing during battle and they don't become disoriented, I can just push them to the brink of collapse because they don't have the wherewithal to feel their pain. So, yeah, I was glad that Keith had a headache.

"I'm sorry," I said, lowering my tone. "Are you okay?"

"I'm... I'm fine, Lance."

I sighed and leaned back. "Why were you out here, anyway?"

"I could ask the same for you," he said, giving me, thankfully, more of a clear gaze. The light of the sunrise shone off the polished ebony of his horns, and I couldn't help but wonder how smooth they were.

"I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. You?"

"I saw you leave."

"And you got-"

"Yes, Lance. I was concerned, because you're supposed to be under my watch, according to Shiro, and if you get muted by the Galra, I'm going to be in deep fucking shit," He snapped. I was taken aback. Under his watch? As if.

"I'm not under your watch; that's bullshit."

"No it's not, Lance," he sighed exasperatedly. "You've been 'under my watch' for a while, now. You don't think that I wasn't keeping an eye out for you before last night, right? The Galra have been taking sirens for months. It wouldn't have been hard to just protect you since there really weren't many bases in the immediate vicinity. It's just that last night, there was a... a development. There's a Galra going to our school now."

"What?"

"Yeah. So I needed to get you outta here fast because the danger level had risen exponentially. You were the only siren I'd been helping that refused to leave the school. Dumbass."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

There was silence between us and I swallowed hard. "Am I going to get kidnapped?"

"Not on my watch," He said without missing a beat. "I'm getting it arranged that Pidge can live with her girlfriend and you can live in my room with me. It's a bit small, but it's much safer to live with a dragon than it is living with a botanical witch."

"Oh. Okay." I would miss Pidge. I guess it was safer though, and I would see her during classes. "Does she know?"

"Yeah. I told her about it this morning," He said, picking sand out of his black fingernails. "She's all for it."

"That's good, I guess." I wasn't surprised. The two could do whatever they wanted without the fear of anyone walking in, so of course, she'd be down to move. There was silence once more. "What about you, though?"

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Me? What about me?"

"You could get hurt while protecting me, right? What are you doing to keep yourself out of the line of fire?"  
Keith's expression darkened at my question and he pursed his lips. "You know," He began, his voice significantly smaller than before. "There's a time in everyone's life where they have to get off their ass and stand up for what they believe in, no matter the consequences. It just so happens that that time, for me, is now."

I pondered this for a moment. I guess that made sense. But it really did stick with me, I think. The 'no matter the consequences' part kinda rubbed me the wrong way. I frowned and sighed. "What time is it?" I asked after a beat of silence. "I didn't bring my phone." He checked his.

"Around six-thirty."

"I should be getting to class soon."

"Yeah, me too."

The silence hung heavily between us, tense and awkward. I stood. He stood too. "So, uh," I said. It was weird, with him. I hoped that this weirdness wouldn't last that long, as I was going to be living with him for the rest of the year or until I was directed otherwise. I sighed. "I think I'm gonna go get ready," I said, motioning to my pajamas. He gave a wry smile and nodded. "Me too," He said. 

We walked our separate ways and I took one last glance at him, walking away with that unsure slouch, those horns of his still gleaming like obsidian in the light of the sun, and sighed, turning back around.

\--

Keith felt the overwhelming urge to turn back around and take a look at the guy he was protecting but resisted, releasing a sigh. How was he going to protect this dumb siren who could incapacitate him with a single note of song? His head still swam slightly from the effects of Lance's magic and his thoughts were jumbled. Not only that, but the headache that had disappeared previously was returning with a vengeance, throbbing in his skull. He got to his building and worked his jaw, trying to keep the pain at bay as he walked up the spiraling stairs. He took a glance at the Teledove and wondered why he'd decided to use it in the first place, even considering the urgency with which he'd used it in. He sighed as he got to his dorm, starting to push open the door (he didn't really need a lock on it, seeing as he was the only person who lived this far out on campus and froze. He sniffed the air.  
Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. Something smelled... dead. A dead something was in his room. Something that was freshly dead was in his room. He took another sniff. No. No no no no no- he pushed through and saw the gruesome corpse of the siren girl he'd tried to help out of the school hanging from his windowpane. 

He gasped and stood in his place for a second, the putrid odor of dead, rotting flesh invading his nose from all angles. He put a hand to his mouth in both shock and complete disgust, not daring to tear his eyes away from the body. Her throat had been ripped out, but there were clean lines inside where her vocal cords used to be. Her eyes had gone milky white and her skin was pale as snow, contrasting starkly against the murky, sludge-y blood that dripped from her throat, from her mouth, from her head, where there was a lesion. She was left in just her underwear, her chest and abdomen having been completely mutilated. Blood pooled around where she sat, telling Keith that she'd endured more than just pain. Her hands were tied above her, her arms contorted into a position that seemed pretty much impossible, her wrists raw from the rope and blood under her fingernails. She'd put up a fight. Her mouth hung ajar, her eyes open wide as if she were trying to call out for someone before she died.  
One of her feet was missing.  
Keith gagged and fumbling with the phone in his back pocket. The silencers were taunting him. They did this to say- 'Hey! You have no control here. Give it up.' He shakily pressed Shiro's emergency contact, knowing that he needed to get help before he passed out.

"Good morning Keith- Keith?"

Keith gagged again and crumpled to his hands and knees, spitting bile from his throat. In the back of his mind, he thanked god that he hadn't had breakfast, but he was far too preoccupied with his current thoughts to consider it.   
"Keith? Are you alright?"

"Shiro..." He coughed again, feeling the bile rising up from his stomach again and choking it out. "Help."

He then promptly fell sideways, not being able to support his own weight anymore, barely registering that Shiro was yelling at him through the phone. The line dropped and Keith heard the Teledove whir as someone, presumably, Shiro, came through to help him.   
Shiro then burst through the door just as Keith's eyelids fell shut.

\---

Keith gasped awake, shooting upright in bed. He looked around, seeing that he was in the infirmary. Wait. Why was he here again?   
The images from before he passed out flooded his mind, forcing him to curl into himself, his knees to his chest, seeing the sludge blood, seeing her chest, seeing her throat, seeing her hands, her fingernails, her arms, her milky eyes, her skin, her fucking foot-   
"Keith," someone familiar spoke his name and he looked up in distress, seeing Shiro by his bedside. Keith's eyes were wide and he seemed to be hyperventilating. Shiro tutted and pulled Keith to his chest, letting the younger teen cry. "You're alright. You're fine. Everything's fine, you're just in shock. You'll be fine."

Keith muttered something almost under his breath and pulled away from Shiro. "What?" Shiro asked, not having heard Keith from the start.

"This is my fault," Keith whispered. "It was my job to get her out of here. It was my job to keep her safe. And now she's dead. In my room. Shiro, this is my fault."

"No, it's not," Shiro responded firmly. "You couldn't have known this was going to happen."

Keith grimaced but didn't say anything more, tears falling from his eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away. He turned and slid off the bed, stumbling for a moment, but righting himself. Shiro reached out to help steady Keith, but was quickly dispelled by the glance that Keith gave him.

"Is my room cleaned?" Keith muttered, his voice low and almost growling. Shiro swallowed hard. He knew how his brother got. He didn't want to mess with him.

"Are you sure you want to go back there right now? You can always-"

"Is my room cleaned?" Keith repeated, this time with more force. He looked back at Shiro, his eyes turned a distinct lilac hue, his pupils forming black slits against them.

"Y-Yes."

Keith huffed, miffed, and stalked from the infirmary, the steely look on his face garnering attention from the nurses.

\---

Lance snuck glances at Keith as he unpacked. The younger of the two was curled up in a ball in his bed, headphones over his ears and those horns tangled in with his hair. Lance had never seen the other like this before- usually, Keith was so sure of himself; so proud. But then he just looked dejected. Lost. And Lance didn't know how to help. Lance didn't even know what happened. Keith wouldn't spill. One minute, he was smiling at Lance with that fucking smirk of his, and the next he was curled up on his bed not saying a thing. It made Lance feel awful. He wondered what could push Keith so much like this.

He was shaken out of his reverie by movement from Keith's bed. A shudder. Shoulders shaking with unshed tears. Lance pursed his lips but kept unpacking. He knew that Keith didn't want the pity. He never did. What Lance could do, however...   
He walking into the kitchen, steeping some tea. He didn't know Keith all that well, but out of the two boxes he could've chosen from, he thought that Earl Grey would be the one Keith would like better. He made it and put it in a pale red mug, walking out and softly placing it on his nightstand, not saying a thing. Lance finished unpacking and spared a glance back at Keith before he walked out the door, taking out his phone and texting Pidge.   
Wait. He stopped in the hallway for a moment. Was it safe for him to go out alone like this? Maybe he should've told Keith where he was going... but thinking back to how the dragon hybrid looked, that might not have been the best idea either. But you can't expect him to stay in his room all day! What kind of life is that?

He could almost hear Keith say in the back of his mind, "A boring life is better than a gruesome death."

He shuddered, a chill making its way down his spine. He deleted his text to Pidge and started wandering about the halls, taking a moment to think about his new roommate and protector. Short, lithe, and muscular. Long, waist-length black hair, black horns curling atop them. Tattered, baggy jeans and a red sweatshirt. Physical.  
Personality-wise, Keith was pretty lacking. He was tough, hot-headed, and rash. But despite this, he was so, so selfless and insecure about who he was, two things Lance could see clearly, even having known him for just a couple of days. But Lance could sense that there was so much more underneath that... persona.   
He frowned, biting his lip, then turned on his heel and marched back down the hallway. He reached for the handle but faltered when he heard voices. No, not voices. One voice. Keith's voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. You... You didn't do anything to deserve this. It was my job to keep you safe. And... I f-failed. This is my fault, Romelle. It's all my fucking fault. I'm so, so sorry..."

Keith's voice was surprisingly steady, and Lance could imagine him- sitting on his bed, hunched over, picking at the threads on his hoodie as he spoke, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Lance sighed and leaned his forehead up against the wood door, furrowing his brows. He didn't know what happened, but he could assume that someone got hurt. Or... no. No, Keith wouldn't let that happen. Right? He grimaced and took a deep breath, looking at the door resolutely. He opened it, walking back in the room silently.   
He met Keith's bloodshot eyes and pursed his lips sympathetically. 

"Don't go out without telling me," he mumbled, but without any real resolve. Lance, realizing that arguing wouldn't get him anywhere while Keith was like this, nodded. Keith nodded back and turned around, laying back down onto his bed. 

 

\---

All of Lance's classes were with Keith now. It wasn't as bad as one would expect- Keith was pretty intelligent and really wouldn't let Lance partner with anyone else other than Pidge or Hunk, seeing as basically anyone could be a Silencer. Because of this, the two grew considerably closer, though Keith's closed off attitude and Lance's desire to break through the half-dragon's tough exterior clashed terribly. Despite this, their lack of separation proved to be a good balance, as they were absolute polar opposites. Together, they flourished, somewhat.

At the moment where our story picks back up, Keith was screwing around with a Rubix cube while Lance finished up some of his Magic History homework.   
Suddenly, Keith's eyes widened and he shot up in bed, his pointed ears twitching anxiously. Lance looked over with mild interest, wondering what exactly Keith heard. There was a knock at the door and Lance's brows furrowed. He didn't even know this place was out here until he moved in- how would anyone else? He went to stand but Keith put out a hand to him, silently telling Lance to stay silent too.   
The knocking stopped for a moment, and Lance assumed that the person was gone until a thin note was slipped under the door. They waited for another couple of seconds until Keith was sure that the person was gone, then he got up and tip-toed toward the door. He picked up the note and read it, his brows furrowing. He swore quietly and walked back over to his bed, picking up his phone from where it was charging and taking a picture of the note, sending it to Shiro.

"What does it say?" Lance asked, his voice still lowered. Keith looked him in the eye and debated his options. Don't tell Lance and risk losing the other's trust, or tell him and make him afraid?

"It says... It says that they 'Can't wait to hear that pretty voice of yours scream, Lance'," Keith read after making his decision, looking worried.

Lance swallowed hard. This was more serious than he thought. The gravity of their situation hit him all at once and he took a shaky breath, lying back onto his bed with a sigh.

"Are you okay, Lance?" Lance looked up at the question and gave a slight scoff.

"Am I okay? You're the one who's as white as a sheet, dude," Lance said, turning his head away once more. And he was right- Keith looked awful. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, his hair all greasy and matted to the sides of his head. His skin was pale as snow and he looked shaken, to say the least. He released a shuddering sigh.  
"I'm fine. You're the one getting death threats, Lance," He huffed, sitting back on his bed. Lance frowned.

"If you say so- you look like you've seen a dead body, man."

Keith went even paler, if that was at all possible, his eyes wide as saucers. "A- uh. Nah. I d-dunno what you're- uh- what you're t-talking about. On a... c-completely different note, I've got to go to the bathroom. Excuse me."

Shit. Keith saw the blood again- the girl on the floor of his room, the blood pooled around her, those milky white eyes, her ripped out throat- shit, shit, shit.

Keith got up and sped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Lance blinked. What the fuck was that?   
Meanwhile, Keith fell to his knees in front of the toilet, putting a hand to his mouth to suppress his gags. He eventually couldn't handle it anymore and retched his meager breakfast. He coughed and spit out some bile, feeling tears running down his face. His breath hitched and he released a quiet sob, his voice hoarse as his throat burned. He looked at the contents of the bowl and was shocked to see flecks of yellow, no, flecks of shiny, flaking gold littered around the disgust.

He didn't hear the knock on the door, and when it opened he flinched away, forgetting about the gold in the toilet bowl.   
"Keith? Are you alright?"

Keith didn't answer, only curling in on himself further and whining softly, gripping the seat of the toilet with white knuckles.   
"Keith?"

He felt a hand on his shoulders and he spun around to face the person, his eyes going completely lilac in preparation to fight- oh. It was just Lance.   
Wait. Lance? He furrowed his brows as the older teen looked at him with concern. "Were you vomiting?"

Keith had the gall to sit up and reach out to flush the toilet. "No," He said as it went down the tubes. Lance rolled his eyes.

"Are you sick or something?"

"Nope. No, I'm fine," Keith lied through his teeth, feeling his stomach roiling. He knew that he wasn't going to vomit again- there was nothing left, anyway. His vision swam and he groaned softly, putting a hand to his head.

"Stop lying to me. C'mon, dragon boy," Lance said, pulling Keith into standing and bracing the other when he swayed, supporting pretty much all of his weight. "Jesus, Keith, you look like you're gonna pass out."

"'M fine," Keith insisted, his words slurring together as Lance guided him from the bathroom, his feet dragging. "'M completely... completely fine."

"Keep telling yourself that and maybe one day it'll be true."

"'M fine," Keith repeated, stumbling over his feet. God, he was lightheaded. He needed to sit down. Yeah, that's a good plan. "'M gonna... 'm jus' gonna sit down..."  
Lance swore as Keith slumped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.   
"Keith, wha- shit-"

Keith opened his eyes, his own blurred gaze meeting Lance's frantic one, then his eyelids fluttered shut and he sighed.   
He hazily heard Lance yelling at him from above, trying to get him to wake up, but he didn't have the energy to care. He let himself drift into unconsciousness, ready to ignore all of his current problems.  
Lance, however, was freaking out. Keith was on the floor in front of him, passed out and looking like death. Shit. Who could he call? Pidge? No, she was in class. Lance groaned and rubbed his face in agitation. This was on him. God, this was on him! Fuck. 

After a moment's worth of hesitation, he picked Keith up bridal style and put him on his own bed, covering him with the thick blue comforter. Keith's bed was sparse and pretty lacking, and Lance really didn't think that Keith would be anything close to comfortable in it.   
Keith shifted in the blankets and Lance held his breath, hoping the other would wake, but no dice. Keith only mumbled slightly and buried his head in the pillow, soon quieting and curling his hand to grip the corner of the pillow. Lance sighed and sat on the bed next to Keith, leaning his head on his hands.   
What exactly happened, anyway?  
Keith didn't look sick, more... tired. So tired. Lance wondered how much Keith had been overworking himself in the past month- coupled with practically being Lance's bodyguard, Lance knew that Keith had a lot of homework. Hell, Lance had a lot of homework, but he'd finished most of it in class- Keith was too busy to. And Lance knew Keith stayed up super late just to do it or to follow his fucking rigorous training regime. The kid had to be exhausted. Lance frowned and brushed Keith's bangs out of his face, furrowing his brows when Keith leaned into the touch. Keith's horns grazed Lance's fingertips as he combed through his thick hair. Keith shifted again, making Lance freeze, soft mutters falling from his lips. Among them was Lance's own name, and said siren felt himself blush.

"Keith," Lance murmured quietly, so as not to wake the younger teen, as he resumed carding his hands through Keith's hair. "You gotta stop doing this to me."

Keith's eyes fluttered open and he blinked tiredly, looking up at Lance with a bleary gaze. "Lance?" he questioned softly, and Lance smiled down at him, running his hand along Keith's scalp soothingly. Keith wouldn't remember this later, anyway, and he needed the sleep. Desperately.

"Shh. Go back to sleep. I'm right here."

"Mmmgh," he responded sleepily, reaching out a hand and tugging on Lance's hoodie. "Don' leave..." he mumbled, and Lance's face turned red. He opened his mouth to reply, but Keith's eyes had already fluttered shut once more, lulled back into his restless doze by Lance's hands on his head.   
Lance hummed softly, using his magic to maybe give Keith some more calm, and Keith's eyebrows unworried themselves, the hand that was tangled in Lance's hoodie loosening. It was at this moment that Lance realized he could get up, but didn't. He was content to stay right there with the sleeping dragon-boy, giving him what he couldn't give himself- solace, comfort. Keith scooted closer after a minute, murmuring and burying his face in Lance's hoodie. "Shhh. I'm here," Lance whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." And Keith seemed to relax once more, yawning quietly and making a small noise of comfort.  
Lance kept humming and playing with Keith's hair, forgetting all of their troubles, if even for just 

\---

Keith was slammed against the lockers. Again. He grunted and slid to the floor, holding his head. He eyed Lance, who was watching on in horror from around the corner and tried to give a weak smile. He was fine. Totally fine. No, he didn't feel like he was going to black out- he was fine.

He then turned his gaze to Lotor, who looked down at him with a smirk. Wait. Something was different. Where were his lackeys? Where was... everyone? The three of them seemed to be alone in the hallway, and a sudden chill went down Keith's spine. He met Lotor's eyes- Lotor was smirking; looking down at Keith like he knew something the hybrid didn't. What exactly was that? The malice in that grin struck Keith at his core, making him take a shuddering breath.  
That's when Keith smelled it. The rancid odor of semi-rotted flesh and fishy-tinted blood. He whipped his head to Lance and gasped, seeing that the siren had gone deathly pale, his throat torn open and his eyes milky white. The siren was on the floor, reaching out to Keith with a look on his face of pure terror, begging, pain. Lance was dead.  
Lance, oh god, Lance- He'd lost two of the people he swore to protect, not to even mention his parents, his family, his home- oh god, everything was falling fucking apart!

He backed up further against the cool metal, feeling himself start to hyperventilate, and gripped the sides of his head in an effort to desensitize himself. He heard a voice and shakily looked up, seeing the fake-sweet smile of Lotor.

"I can't wait to hear that pretty voice of yours, Keith," He purred, his voice too polite for it to be genuine. His eyes opened and Keith caught a glimpse of the murder inside, the glee that seemed to only come when he was getting himself off to dead bodies, the absolute fucking joy it brought him to kill-  
"Keith..." He looked up. Lance, still laying there, blood pouring out of his cracked lips, spoke his name. "Keith..."

He screamed, trying to make it all go away. Everything was too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much-

"Keith!"

He jerked awake, the scream that tore from his raw throat cutting off, feeling arms tight around him. Who was it? Lotor, oh shit, it had to be Lotor, who else would it be- he had to get away. He struggled in the grip, kicking and pounding on the person's chest, trying to get them to release him. He had to get away or he would be killed just like his mom and dad and family and Romelle and Lance, get away get away get away get away get away-

"Keith- ow- please calm- ow- calm the fuck down- ow, fuck holy shit you're fucking strong-" He heard a familiar voice from above him and slowed his struggle, looking up with wide, fearful eyes. Lance looked back at him with concern. Wait- Lance? Keith hiccuped out a sob and clasped his hands over his mouth. Lance wasn't dead, he wasn't dead anymore, how? Oh my god Lance wasn't dead

"Keith, shh, you're alright, shh, it's okay, I'm fine, I'm right here, don't cry, it's okay. No, don't hyperventilate- C'mon, Keith, breathe for me..." Lance murmured to him in a soothing tone as he sobbed into the siren's chest, quelling his frantic, watery questions with rational answers.

Eventually, Keith's tittering sobs tapered off, but Lance still spoke to him, telling him that everything was alright. It really did keep him sane, for the time being, and it made him feel nice. Like someone actually cared. He'd always woken up to a panic attack and had to suffer through them until he either calmed himself down or passed out, usually the latter, and this change was... not unwelcome. His eyes slipped closed.

"Keith? Are you awake?" Keith furrowed his brows at Lance's question and turned his head to bury his face into Lance's chest, not really coherent enough to realize that it wasn't his pillow.

"No..." He mumbled softly, screwing his eyes shut against his impending migraine. Lance chuckled softly and ran his hand through Keith's hair. The dragon sighed at the action and the tension in his body loosened. Lance wondered if Keith would even remember this or the nightmare in the morning, then decided that this was a problem for future Lance.

"Okay, then. Go back to sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning."

"Mm."

\---

Keith woke up to warmth- how nice. Being that he almost always felt cold (Shiro once told him that he might be cold-blooded like most dragons) this was nice- he felt the sun on his face and the pillow he was on was firm. He felt hazy; well rested for the first time in a long time. His eyes stayed glued shut, the charm of this new-found feeling keeping him too tired to move. When his pillow moved, he hummed in protest and gripped it tighter, the sudden halt in the warmth's movement lulling him back into his dreamless limbo.  
He heard a soft sigh and felt a hand in his hair. He cuddled closer to the heap underneath him in response.

"Keith," He heard a voice above him and he furrowed his brows. "Keith, buddy, wake up. We need to go to class."

He didn't respond, only shushing the voice drowsily and burying his face in the soft fabric of the pillow that, now that he was a little more awake, felt suspiciously like a hoodie. Well, whatever. As long as it stayed put, he didn't give a shit.

"Keith, I really would love to let you sleep, I really would, but we gotta get ready for Botany."

"Fuck plants..." Keith mumbled, the warmth and the now-constant voice making him fall back to sleep-

"Yeah, alright, let's get up." Keith felt a nudge in his side and growled in protest, gripping the hoodie-like fabric tightly. "Holy shit you're like a fucking cat, Keith..."

Who was that voice, anyway? It sounded pretty familiar, and the only other person who had access to this room was-   
"Lance?!" Keith shot up, suddenly wide awake. Lance looked back in surprise but grinned anyway.

"Good... Morning?"

Keith's face went totally red when he realized that he'd been sleeping on Lance, getting up quickly and grabbing clothing, making a beeline for the bathroom. Lance stayed in the bed, watching in confusion.

"J-Just go! I'll meet you in class!" Keith yelled from the bathroom. Lance shrugged.

"Okay, see ya."

Lance quickly changed and left the room, lazily walking toward the teledove. He frowned when his phone buzzed in his pocket and took it out, stepping onto the crystal converter that the teledove was made from.

Pigeon: Dont come to class today

Lance's frown deepened. The text was rushed and frantic- so far from Pidge's usual texting style, which was all grammatically correct and snarky.

Splash splash: Y? R u ok?

Pigeon: Ill come to u after class i know who the silencer is

Splash splash: What

Pigeon: later dont come today pls you could be killed just stay with keith

Lance swallowed hard and texted back an affirmative, stepping off the teledove. He walked back to the room and saw Keith rush out, still putting his hoodie on, then their eyes met. Keith's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Lance? Why aren't you going to class?"

Lance huffed in worry and stalked over to Keith, grabbing the dragon's forearm and dragging him back inside.   
"Pidge knows who the silencer is."

Keith's eyes widened and his brows knitted together. "Who is it? We should go find her-"

"She's coming to us after class. She told me not to leave."

Keith's face now was one of confusion. Damn, Lance never noticed how expressive Keith really was. That was interesting. "Why?"

"I dunno."

Keith rolled his eyes and growled in irritation. "Okay, then. I'm not leaving. Not gonna take any chances."

"Okay."

Keith sauntered over to his bed and fell into the mattress face-first. He heard a muffled giggle from Lance at the action and smiled into his thin blanket, rolling his eyes again. Lance took a moment to look at Keith, who was wearing an old red hoodie and some loose basketball shorts. He was dressed as if he'd just thrown on random clothing, and Lance didn't doubt that that's what Keith did, given the boy's 'fuck it' personality.  
Lance's mouth quirked up in a fond smile. The dragon still looked rather tired, but now it was more of something that a good night's sleep would fix rather than a nightmare-inducing delirium. Lance sighed, sitting on his bed.

Keith shifted so that he laid on the bed more and put his head in his arms.  
He slept with Lance. No, not in that way. Surprisingly, he wasn't as embarrassed as he'd been earlier. He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling- Lance had put sticky stars all over it, and despite all of Keith's grouching, he rather liked how they looked in the dark. It wasn't dark now, of course, but he liked pretending they were real stars on sleepless nights. Real stars, though, didn't peel off and fall on Keith's face after a month. He sighed and closed his eyes. He'd woken up on Lance, but he couldn't remember much about the night before. Or the day before, for that matter. He remembered something about a threatening note, but he really had been dead on his feet those past couple days. Maybe he'd ask Lance what happened.

"So what do you wanna do?" Lance inquired. Keith opened his eyes again. Lance seemed so nonchalant, but then again, Lance was always nonchalant. It was like he didn't think much of anything, really. Keith decided that he'd just let the situation slide for the time being, for sake of preserving what little relationship he may have had with Lance. He quite liked their dynamic and, as painful as it was for him to admit, he'd grown rather fond of the siren.   
Keith hummed in thought at the question and turned his head to the side, where Lance was staring off into space. He looked tired. Not 'I haven't slept in three weeks' tired, as Keith often looked (and felt) but tired nonetheless. He turned back to look at the ceiling.

"Wanna watch something?" Lance asked.

Keith suddenly let out a chuckle at the question. "I haven't sat down to just watch something in years," He laughed nostalgically.

Lance's jaw dropped and Keith turned his head to look at the other boy, eyebrow raised. "What, like you watch a lot of tv."

"Are you kidding? I watch tv all the time!"

"Well, unlike you apparently, I don't really have the time to watch them. Plus, I don't have the money to pay for cable or one of those subscription services."

"Okay, we're watching something right fucking now."

Keith scoffed. "Alright. What, then?"

Lance quieted for a moment. "How about The Office?" He asked. 

"What's that?" Keith responded with a question, sitting up and leaning over onto his knees.   
Lance gasped. "You've never heard of The Office?" He all but yelled.

"Lance, I lived in a cave for most of my life. Of course, I haven't heard of whatever The Office is. Now, what the fuck is it?"

"It's- y'know what? You'll see. C'mere."

Lance stood and walked over, grabbing Keith by the forearm again and dragging him across the room, all but throwing him onto the bed. "Make yourself comfortable, dragon boy. I'm gonna get my laptop, then we're bingeing this fucking masterpiece."  
Keith snickered and climbed into Lance's bed, doing what the siren had told him. He didn't feel exactly uncomfortable with this if he was being honest. It was cold in their room, and Keith's bare-bones attempt at a bed wasn't really cutting it. Lance's bed, though, was pretty fucking comfortable.   
"Okay! Scoot, bitch."

Keith smiled and scooted, letting Lance in. He was kind of squished against the wall on the twin bed, but between the cool wall and Lance's warmth, he felt pretty cozy. Lance pulled up the first episode on Netflix and pressed play, practically vibrating in excitement.  
That was short-lived, though, because, by the second episode, Lance was asleep, his head against the top of Keith's. Keith sighed in half-real exasperation and leaned his head on Lance's shoulder, watching the show. He actually liked it, surprisingly.

Lance hummed and cuddled closer. Keith let him, a fond smile appearing on his face. Yeah. He liked this quite a bit.

\---

"So here's the deal," Pidge whispered, her voice strained with concern. She paced the room while Keith sat on the bed with Lance, who was still asleep. She had walked in, took one look at the two, shrugged, and started talking. "Y'know Lotor?"

"Yeah, what about him?" Keith frowned. "Does he have something to do with the silencer?"

PIdge gave him an incredulous look and groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "He is the silencer, dumbass."

Keith's mouth made a surprised 'o'. Honestly, he should've seen the signs- it was pretty obvious. Lotor only ever picked on Lance before Keith showed up, he was aggressive, hostile, and overall downright mean, and he only had friends on the basis of fear. Something was definitely off with the elf and Keith really hadn't thought much of it until now.

"That makes a lot of sense, actually." He murmured, almost to himself. He put a hand to his chin in thought. "Something about him... it's kind of hard to miss that he's so... y'know."

Pidge nodded in agreement, then sat down on Keith's bed. "The question still stands, though- what are we going to do about it?" She frowned. "We really can't just tell people. This information is sensitive and there's the potential that he could sic the entire organization on us. And if we just outright confront him, it'd be a danger to us. The school wouldn't be able to do anything about it seeing as Lotor comes from a wealthy background and could probably just sue the school for unprovoked expulsion, even if we have hard evidence that he's out for blood."

Keith bit his lip. "We can't just do nothing, though."

"Right."

Silence fell. Then, Keith mustered the confidence to say what he'd been thinking all along. He took a deep breath. "What if... what if we kill him?"

Pidge looked up, her face suddenly one of shock. "What?"

"What if we kill him?" Keith didn't look up, his brows knit together in thought. "With how lax the security is at this school, it wouldn't be hard to cover up. There's already a history of homicide at this school- Lotor would essentially just be a statistic to the administration. In fact, the administration actively tries to hide anything regarding said statistics."

"What are you saying? That you know how it would go down? Because I don't think any of us do- this is super risky, not to mention seriously unethical."

"Since when do you care about ethics?"

"Since you started talking about killing Lotor."

"He..." Keith grimaced, looking over to make sure Lance was still asleep. Upon seeing that he was, he turned back to Pidge. "He killed someone in this room. Romelle, y'know that girl who used to be in our magic history class? The one who disappeared? She was killed in here."

Pidge's face twisted into an expression that Keith couldn't read. "What? She... She's dead? I was told that she transferred schools."  
Keith shook his head. "No. Dead as a doornail."  
"How do you know?"

Keith but his lip. "Because I was the one who found her."  
Pidge sucked in a breath and her eyes widened. She sputtered like she was about to say something but couldn't find the words. "Are— when?"  
"About a month ago. Why do you think I've kept such close tabs on Lance? I've been able to do it from afar for the most part in the past, but it's just too risky now."

Pidge drew a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay, this is... that makes more sense. But we need a plan of attack. Lotor's smart. He's got combat training that surpasses mine, and I'm not sure about you—" she gasped with a revelation. "Dragon's breath! Do you have dragon's breath?"

Keith cocked his head. "What's that?"  
Pidge picked up her bag and pulled a book out, going and sitting in front of Keith, being careful not to wake Lance. She turned to a dog eared page and turned it to Keith.   
"Dragon's breath," she pointed to a picture of a dragon spitting something onto a human. "Is a feature that dragons have that lets them produce a scalding mineral from their stomachs. There's normally a special organ that does it but in your case it would be there. They're able to regurgitate it and use it in combat."

Keith took the book and read the description. "I dunno, Pidge. I've never heard of this. Plus, what would it do against Lotor? Elves have magic shields- they're basically immune to everything."

"You idiot- elves aren't protected from dragon's breath. It affects them more than other species. You could say they're allergic."

Keith raised his eyebrows. "What if I don't have it?"

"Then we would need to find another way to carry this out."

Keith sighed. "I guess so."

——

Almost a week later, Keith still hadn't been able to cough up this so-called 'Dragon's Breath'. He'd grown agitated and while Pidge advocated that they should just keep trying, Lance realized that they weren't going to get anything done with all this pressure on Keith. He didn't want the fiasco from before being repeated. Everyone was just too stressed and they needed something a little more casual to maybe coax this out of Keith. And Lance had the perfect plan.

"You're gonna love him. He's a blacksmith-"

"Wait, he doesn't have magic?"

"Yes, of course, he has magic, Keith-"

"But blacksmiths don't use magic."

"Blacksmiths don't usually have magic. Hunk's an exception," Pidge chimed in. "He's an Orc but he has some fae lineage, so his magic may be weak but it's there. Plus, the fact that his skin is basically fireproof and his hands were made for wielding weapons doesn't hurt. He made my bow and we're going to see if he can make any reinforcements to your staff."

Keith hummed in thought and paid a quick glance to his staff, the red orb in its head sparkling in the midday sun.

"That's pretty interesting," He chirped, his eye glued to the orb in question. "An orc with magic. Do you think he'd be able to make this more durable? I've had some problems with cracks in the grooving in the past..."

"Yeah, he'll be able to do that, easy-peasy," Lance boasted as if he were about to take credit for all this blacksmith's work. Keith rolled his eyes playfully.

"That's good," 

Pidge pushed past Lance to get near to the dragon-born boy for a moment. "He also has a spell that may be able to tell whether or not you have dragon's breath. If performed by a powerful enough witch"- she dusted the sleeve of her cloak- "then it just might work."

Keith gave her a slight grin and chuckled, figuring that the arrogance she was exuding was mere confidence or maybe sureness that she would be able to perform the spell. He thought that maybe they should get the school's administration involved, but, honestly, until the time came where they'd need to fight, it wasn't truly a necessity.

They came upon a small cabin, just at the edge of the wood. Lance barked a laugh and ran toward it, his hands thrown wide as the door slammed open. A large boy, around the same age as the rest of them, stocky in build and clunky in nature, his hands wrapped in yellowed bandages and the rest of him clad in leather harnesses, ran towards Lance with the same vigor, his face split into a grin.

"Hunk!" Lance cried.

"Hunk?" Keith remarked, looking to Pidge with a confused grimace. Pidge shrugged and urged Keith closer.

"Hey, Lance! Pidge! And..."

"Keith," he said, reaching out his hand to shake Hunk's. "My name is Keith."

Hunk extended his own hand in return. "Hello, Keith-" but the minute the two touched, Hunk skittered back. "Ow, ow ow- Holy smokes! Is- Is he a dragon?"

Pidge narrowed her eyes, whipping out her notes. "Why? Does this affect orc or fae in any way?"

"Fae, actually," Hunk responded, looking at Keith with an anxious eye. "Any contact with dragons hurt fae." Keith responded with a slight glare from under 

"Well, I bet you're glad that y'all are only partially all that, right?" Lance chuckled, trying to lighten the now heavy mood. It worked, and Hunk was all cheery grins again, though he did give Keith a wary gaze or two as he invited them into his cabin. 

"Okay, guys this is--" Keith tuned out as Hunk spoke. Something was going on. Something buzzed in his ear and he turned to the not-yet-closed door. He eyed it suspiciously and walked toward it, frowning. As Lance and Hunk chattered away to each other, Pidge noticed Keith's off behavior and furrowed her brows.

"Is there something the matter?" She muttered, getting to Keith's side as he fell into a defensive position.

He heard a low whistle and tensed, stalking out. "Get back, stay inside," He responded through grit teeth, running out, slamming the door shut, and yelling a bubble spell as a defensive maneuver to maybe save the cabin to no avail. There was rumble on the ground and he growled, crouching onto the ground. There was a boom, and he was thrown from his feet, and he looked up to see- Lotor.   
He growled, his body shaking in unending rage, and stood, hunching over and picking up his staff. The last thing he saw before the anger made him blackout was a smirk on Lotor's pretty, pretty face.

\--

Keith gasped awake. Where was he? What happened? The last thing he remembered was... pain. Excruciating pain. From... his back, maybe? He couldn't pinpoint anything.  
He staggered to stand, looking around. Flames. Flames, fire- everywhere. It was everywhere. Mangled corpses littered the ground, charred to a crisp. It was... who did this? He looked up slowly, seeing Lance sitting on the ground, tears falling down his face and hitting the dirt. Would they put out the fire? Would they stop the blaze? He looked up a little further and saw Lotor holding a blaster to Lance's head, a sick grin on his face. Keith choked on his own vomit and almost fell again, but something on his back steadied him. He turned his head, crying out when he saw wings, huge, red just like the inferno around him, sprouting from his shoulder blades. They were covered in blood, no doubt his own, and he choked again. They hurt. They hurt so bad- how couldn't he have felt them before? Perhaps that's what made him pass out. They were moveable, though, as he could see when he started tenderly flapping them around. He heard a sob and a snicker.

"Come here, mutt." Keith heard Lotor call and he whipped his head back around, seeing him holding Lance by his hair. "Those wings of yours won't help you this time."

"This time? Wh-What's happening?" He asked, ashamed of how small his voice sounded. Lotor scoffed. He looked closer, seeing that the prince's face was littered in cuts and bruises, blood dripping out of his nose. Had he done that?

"As if you don't realize," Lotor sneered. "That your incompetence has just annihilated around a fourth of your school."

Keith's breath hitched and he put his hands to his mouth, hissing when his new claws slashed his lip. "Wh- How?!"

Lotor grinned, his teeth sharp as daggers, and looked him up and down with a seller's eye. "That fire in your body may prove to be profitable..."

"What are you talking about?" Keith cried. "Stop fucking with me!"

"Keith!" Lance shouted. "Run! Fly away, or something! He was here for me, don't let him get you too!"

Keith frowned and looked up. "Get me?"

Lotor barked a laugh. "You are an ancestor of some of the most powerful dragons in the world, mutt. As if I would let you go."

"Most... Powerful?" Keith felt something stir in his stomach and he retched. Molten gold fell from his throat instead of bile and he groaned, falling to his knees.

"Keith!" He heard Lance scream and he staggered to his feet, stepping into the scalding liquid. He hissed and stepped away.

"You've been awakened, oh ancient one!" Lotor shouted. "Now come forth! Give me the fight I've always dreamed of! Give me my honor!"

"Tell you what." Keith put on a stony expression and stood tall for the first time in a while. Lance's eyebrows knitted together at the seriousness that Keith exuded. "If you let can beat me in a fight, then I'll let you have me."

Lotor grinned, a laugh coloring his words. "Is it really that easy?" He took a step forward, yanking the siren, who yelped under his grasp. Keith's eyebrow twitched. "You know you aren't cut out for this, mutt. This could be made so much easier," He looked down at Lance with slight annoyance. "If you just handed yourself over."

"No! Run!" Lance cried.   
Keith took a step back, but then he saw Lance's face again. Burnt in some places, expression contorted in fear but also... resignation. Lance had resigned himself to his death. What kind of person does that? But then again... what kind of person runs from a fight like this?  
"Why would I do that?" Keith snarled.

"Now, now," Lotor cooed, his voice sickening. "No need to get so riled up yet. Think about your family. Think about that Shirogane fellow. Think of Lance, here."

Ah. That wasn't a good tactic to use. Keith snickered. "I am thinking of them." He grinned widely, his eyes, for the first time, showing how much he truly cared. "And that's why I'll never give in to you."

"I see."

There was a moment of silence across the battlefield. Keith took a shuddering breath, but spread his wings, falling into a fighting stance. Lotor watched with amusement.

"If it's a fight you want, Lotor," Keith declared, his voice authoritative, albeit wavering. His throat burned, but it felt good, in a way. Like a fire in his stomach to keep him grounded. "Then you've come to the right place."

Lotor grinned and dropped Lance's hair, so the blue paladin fell to the wet ground with a sob.

"Finally," Lotor said. "A decent opponent. Let it commence."

"Indeed."

Keith ran forward, ignoring the pain of his feet against rocks, and swiped Lotor aside with his wing. The latter of the two slid against the grass, hitting a tree with a thump. In no time, the prince was standing once more, running towards Keith with a grin. He punched, Keith parried. Keith ran forward towards Lance and scooped up his staff, turning around again and falling into a more defensive position. Lotor smirked and moved to the side, his face passive. Keith breathed heavily- he was hurt, he knew. But he couldn't- he couldn't stop now!

He pushed himself off the ball of his foot and flapped his wings to propel himself against the slippery shrubbery. He raised his fist to punch the taller man, but Lotor easily grabbed his fist. He squeezed hard and twisted, making Keith writhe in pain before hitting Lotor with his staff. Lotor groaned and let go of Keith's fist, so the younger boy moved back considerably and fell into a magic-offensive stance.

"You will never prevail, Lotor!" He growled, shifting his foot back and leaning forward. Lotor eyed Keith's movements with amusement.

"We'll see about that."

Keith growled and muttered a spell, letting it get progressively louder as the orb nestled in the head of his staff glowed. Lance heard the spell and gasped. "Keith, you can't do that! Stop it!"

And Lance was right. What Keith was performing was a forbidden spell- a spell that was designed to kill. He was trying to kill Lotor, but this had consequences. Anything you use the spell for will be brought back upon you tenfold. So Keith would die a death so much more painful that he would probably be dead from heart failure before the deed was supposed to be done.   
But he didn't care. He had to save Lance. He had to save Shiro. He had to save Pidge and Hunk. He needed to save everyone. What did it matter if he died? He'd be dying for them. And that was okay. He finished chanting and raised his staff, allowing the energy from the spell to gather into the purple orb at the top.

"Don't worry, Lance," Keith said, turning his head back to give Lance one of his rarest smiles. Lance's eyes bubbled with tears. "There's a time in everyone's life where they have to get off their ass and stand up for what they believe in. I believe in you, Lance. And-" He choked up. "And I love you." Lance's face twisted into one of pure sorrow.

He felt when the energy storage filled. He took a deep breath and aimed it at Lotor, who, for some reason, was still standing there. Maybe he'd accepted his death? Deep down, he knew that this wasn't the case, but he shot the spell anyway, not listening to Lance's screams.

It hit Lotor, and the prince grimaced, biting his lip in pain. But he did not fall. He braced himself on the tree behind him but did not fall.   
"What a shame," Lotor purred, regaining his stance and giving Keith a slight sneer. "I was hoping for a bit more of a, ah, how should I put this? Challenge."   
Keith was appalled- but then his face contorted into a gasp, and he fell to the ground with a scream of excruciating pain. His vision went black, but he was still awake and writhing on the ground. He felt a hand on his arm and he screamed even more, the touch igniting pinpricks of flames atop his skin.

"K--th!" He heard Lance's voice calling his name, but it cut in and out. After a moment, he managed to stop convulsing, but the heat that flooded throughout his entire body stayed. He coughed, feeling... whatever was in his stomach roiling around. It climbed up his throat and once again, that molten gold dribbled from his lips. Someone rolled him over onto his back and he groaned, his eyelids fluttering. He looked up at the person who was healing him.

"L-La-" He coughed up more gold and cried out when it burned his cheeks.

"Shh," Lance cooed, his voice soft and comforting, albeit shaky. "I'm gonna heal you, then we're gonna get outta here."

Lance sang a short song, but this time instead of the disorientation and fogginess in his head, Keith's thoughts cleared. He blinked more awake as the pain ebbed into a throbbing stab, and while it was still unsavory it was better than before. He took a deep breath and was relieved to find that his lungs didn't heave and his stomach didn't do somersaults. He started to sit up, feeling weak but not helpless and pushed Lance's hand away when he tried to push the dragon down. Lance kept singing, however, and the cuts that Keith's wings made when they sprouted closed, leaving gnarly scars across his back. Keith sighed and flapped them, the pain easing into an ache that he knew would be there for a while.

"Keith, what're you doing? Lay back down, I'm in the middle of healing you!"

Keith smiled at Lance. "Your song didn't make me dizzy!"

Lance blinked, looking at Keith warily. "That's the adrenaline, you'll feel it later. Are you... okay?" Then, the gravity of the situation caught back up with Keith. This wasn't going to last long, he knew, and the worry in Lance's gaze told him that he didn't have much time.

Keith's smile quirked down a little and he looked away from Lance, eyeing Lotor from across the battlefield. "Never better, selkie."

He stood, swaying a bit but keeping his ground. He tore off what remained of his shirt- tattered, blood-stained and not of much use to him anyway. Lotor was regaining some of his strength as well, though it looked like Lance's siren song was doing what it was meant to do. Lotor's eyes clouded with confusion and he put a hand to his head. Keith felt his lips twitch into a smirk- he may have a chance just yet.

But then Lotor shook his head. He looked up at Keith with more clarity in his gaze, but he still seemed in pain. "You really could've made this all easier, Keith," Lotor repeated, his voice drawn out and cocky. "But you've thrown away your only chance at salvation."

Keith's smirk turned into a grin and he once again fell into a fighting stance. "Does it look like I care?"

He heard Lance yelling at him to come back when he lunged forward. He was running on adrenaline at this point- he knew he wouldn't be able to get very far. He threw a couple of punches at a dazed Lotor and blocked where he needed to. He jumped back and realized something. The gold sloshed around in his stomach still- it was heavy, sitting at the bottom and weighing him down. He had an idea- it wasn't the best idea and it was pretty probable that he would pass out afterward, but it was an idea. And that's all they had left. He turned to Lance.

"Hey, Lance!" The siren teen looked up at his name. "I need you to punch me as hard as you can in the gut!"

"What?" Lotor exclaimed, confused. Lance looked at him incredulously for a moment and Keith could see the cogs spinning in his brain. Then it clicked. Lance grinned and stood, running forward to gain momentum and socking Keith in the belly with the force of years of strength training.

Keith coughed up some gold but didn't open his mouth. He let it build up in his mouth then used his teeth- hard, metal like -to spark it. He finally succeeded in setting the gold on fire, then ran as fast as he could over to Lotor, who was up against another tree, watching with confusion.

"Hey Lotor," Keith gargled, hitting Lotor so hard with his staff that the prince fell to the ground. "Think fast."

He spit the gold onto Lotor; the once-gold was now white hot with fire and when it touched Lotor's skin, it stuck. Lotor screamed as Keith had when the spell translated back to him, and then Keith realized why- Elves were allergic to dragon's breath.   
Checkmate.   
As Lotor burnt to a crisp, Keith started backing up. He was done- Lotor was defeated. He heard footsteps behind him and tried to turn, but tilted dangerously. He felt hands on his back around his wings, cradling his head as he collapsed to the ground, holding him gently as to not irritate his injuries. 

"Oh god, Keith, you're alright, holy shit, you're alright." Lance's voice was quiet, almost a whine, and Keith looked up with a tired gaze. Wow. Lance was... Lance was beautiful. A small part of his chin was scratched up and he had a bruise under his eye, but he was stunning nonetheless.   
"Bet he didn't think I still had that, did he?"  
Lance chuffed a laugh and brushed Keith's hair out of his eye. Keith didn't have the energy to resist.  
"You idiot. You're so fucking stupid. I almost lost you, you little shit. I hate you." Tears bubbled in Lance's eyes and Keith wanted so badly to wipe them away, but found he was unable.

"Are you okay?" Keith's words slurred together, his eyes fluttering, and Lance choked out a watery chuckle.   
"Yes," He laughed, his smile wide and relieved. "Yes, I'm alright," he whispered, leaning down to meet his forehead to Keith's. "Thank you, you stupid asshole."

"'s good..." He coughed and saw Lance's face fall into one of pure dread when, instead of gold, blood bubbled from his lips. "'s okay..." Keith's vision blurred, his hearing muffling.

He blacked out again, but could still hear. He heard voices, more than Lance this time, crowding around him, and he could hear his name being called still.

Then, suddenly, everything fell away. The pain, the voices, the touch, everything. He opened his eyes, looking around. Where was he? Unconscious? Maybe.   
"Not quite."

He whirled around, seeing Lotor leaning on that tree still. He smiled at Keith and walked over. The galra fell into a defensive stance and Lotor stifled a laugh. "Don't worry, Keith," He gave a grin. "I cannot hurt you here."

Keith slowly fell out of the stance and looked at Lotor. He saw calm on the other's face, no real malice or bloodlust. What was this? A facade, most definitely.   
"Nice to meet you too."

Keith blinked. Could Lotor hear his thoughts?

"Indeed, I can."

Keith blanched and looked down in embarrassment. Lotor laughed again and walked over, grinning when Keith flinched. "Don't worry, I said. I can't even touch you. Watch." Lotor waved a hand at Keith and it went through the dragon's form like a ghost. Lotor's hand flickered as it flew through his shoulder and he pulled it back, putting it in his pocket.   
"Wait," Keith stopped Lotor with a raised hand, confused. "You're so... different than before."

Lotor's face fell, but he retained a sadder smile on his face. "Yes, I know. That's not me, Keith. I am so sorry that you need to interact with..." He faltered, thinking. "That."

"Then what is 'that'?"

Lotor bit his lip, then sighed. "My father, Zarkon, is the president of the organization from which the Silencers originate. Because I am an only child, I'm next in line for the presidency. Unluckily for him, I didn't want it. I told him point blank, but he resisted. He was pestering me for a couple of years until the two sirens arrived at VA, which happened to be the same year I arrived. That's when he really cracked down on me."

"So you took it?" Keith took a step back warily and Lotor raised an eyebrow.

"No," He muttered, voice annoyed. "Of course not. I never gave in to him, Keith. I was satisfied with just going into this school- I had my mother's magic and I wanted to be a healer. I wanted to help people."

"Then..." Keith furrowed his brows, looking at Lotor with wide eyes. "Why were you hurting Lance?"

Lotor's face screwed up in remorse. "I didn't want to!" He cried. "My father corrupted me. Drugged me and injected me with quintessence to disembody me. Made a clone and forced it to be his son. Now I'm trapped in the void and I look in on all of this from the third person. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

Keith, still untrusting but this time a little more convinced, frowned. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

Keith blinked. "Wait a second." He looked up from where he was glaring at his feet. "Why am I here?"

Lotor's sad smile returned. "You died."

Keith's eyes widened and he took a few stumbling steps back, falling. He put a hand to his head and his breaths came fast and hard. Lotor mumbled a swear and ran over, kneeling in front of the dragon.   
"Quiznack, Keith, oh no no no- let me finish explaining- I'm sorry, I- Oh dear-"

Keith wrapped his arms around himself, digging his hands into his arms. He felt something, then, like a surge of magical energy running through his body, and whined. It felt weird.

"Keith, try to calm down-"

"Keith! No, no no no! Wake up, please wake up-"

Lotor frowned at the new voice. Lance? Keith thought. Lance was here? He whimpered and reached for the voice, but upon looking he found no owner. Lotor hummed wistfully.   
"It seems as though our time is up."

"Wh-What?"

"Keith! Please! I-I- There's a moment in everyone's life where they have to get off their ass and stand for what they believe in! I believe in you! Stay with me, please!"

"What the fuck is happening?" Keith cried.   
Lotor grinned. "I'm doing what I said I'd do," He whispered. "I'm helping people."

Keith frowned, but then Lotor, this time not fazing through, bumped their foreheads together. "Stay alive this time, Keith. I don't have any more lives to give."

Keith felt a chill as Lotor's essence fused with his own and-

He gasped! He jolted awake, sitting up abruptly, then sagged against Lance with exhaustion. A couple of people, namely Hunk and Allura, yelled in surprise, but Lance's eyes widened and filled with tears. "I thought I'd lost you, you idiot," He murmured, taking Keith's violently shaking hand in his own. "I thought you were gone."

"I-" He swallowed thickly. He needed water. "I was gone."

"What?"

"L-Lotor, he-"

Hunk gasped, cutting him off. "Keith, your hair!" He pointed and everyone's eyes were fucking saucers. Keith looked around- everyone after his reawakening seemed so surprised with everything. Had they accepted his death that quickly? Had they just thrown their arms up and said, 'Oh well. c'est la vie'? He decided to put it off for another time and looked up in question.

"What the fuck? What about my hair?"

Lance felt around and found a broken shard of glass, gingerly picking it up and holding it for Keith to see his reflection. His hair was still black but a chunk in the front was pure, snow white, whispy and shining. Nothing like the rest of his head, which was matted and caked with grime. "Oh," He breathed.

His head was spinning. God, now that the adrenaline died down, he realized that he was exhausted. His magic was basically all used up, and his stomach roiled with the release of all that gold, and his back hurt like hell, not to mention all those other cuts and scrapes and bruises that were giving him grief. He tried to shift his wings around but found that he barely had the energy to stay awake, let alone move. People were talking to him, but it was more of a one-sided conversation than anything. Lance noticed this and frowned, brushing Keith's bangs out of his face. 

"Guys, can we do this later? Keith's about to pass out," He commented in between Hunk's rambling. Pidge gave a small grin and kneeled in front of them. 

"Take a rest, man," she spoke, her voice softer than normal. "When you wake up you'll feel a lot better, I swear."

That was all Keith needed to let his eyes flutter shut. He felt Lance's grip around him tighten, as if he were scared Keith was going to disappear, then everything faded away. This time, though, he knew he wasn't dead.

\---

Keith awoke to feel the sorest he'd ever felt. He tried to move but hissed in pain, which apparently caught someone's attention if the hand on his arm had anything to say. He cracked his eyes open and winced at the light, squinting to try and adjust his eyes.

"Hey, Keith," Lance smiled, his eyes tearing up. "Welcome back to the land of the living."


End file.
